Vigorous Restitution
by TheDaedricPrinceOfCrossovers
Summary: Percy emerges into Columbia a broken man - thirty-eight years old with no recollection of his past, save for the basics. But the mind is quite adept at creating memories where none exist. There is one thing Percy does remember - "Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt."
1. One: It Always Starts with a Lighthouse

**I think I've done the impossible. I spent like the last three months of my life creating this, studying the BioShock Infinite timeline and then Percy Jackson's, and crafting something that makes sense. I've had to change the dates around - Columbia doesn't launch until 1895 for consistency issues, and a few other things were altered. So now, I give you... Vigorous Restitution. **

**ALSO: As I previously mentioned, I'll be putting music on my profile that can be used to enhance the atmosphere. From the time that Percy enters the lighthouse to when he gets to the top level, "Old Time Religion" plays in the background. If you want to listen to that, go ahead. Link's on my profile.**

**Percy's appearance and attire are on my profile page. You should take a look at it Before we get going. **

* * *

**ONE**

Percy Jackson was a comet, hurtling towards the earth.

He'd overexerted his powers at Mount Saint Helens. The Washington coastline was craggy - he had no time to "aim for the bushes" on this one. He just had to hope it wouldn't hurt. He couldn't even shut his eyes out of curiosity.

Just before he impacted the ground, something... strange happened. The area where he would land turned black, white, and statically, as if he was watching an old television show. He fell right through the ground - the air was sucked from him, and his ears buzzed. The world was black. He wondered dimly if some titan had opened a portal to Tartarus.

And still... nothingness.

Sudden, fuzzy voices were heard in the background. _Bring us the Girl... wipe away the debt. The debt. The Girl. The Girl. The Debt. Mister Jackson!_

* * *

_Bring us the Girl and wipe away the debt!_

Some time had passed. It must've.

Percy's eyes slowly opened. He was in a rainstorm, somewhere. That much was clear. His water resistance powers weren't working - he was getting wetter and colder by the second. In a rowboat, it seemed. A man in the front of the boat was rowing furiously against the dark waves. His naturally sea bearings, he calculated 43 degrees 56 minutes north, and 67 degrees 34 minutes west. Somewhere near Maine.

"Are you going to just sit there?" The man asked impatiently. He had a slight British accent. Percy thought for a moment that the man was asking him.

"Excuse me, sir? What's going on?" Percy asked helplessly. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized something was off. He sounded much gruffer, and older than he used to. A quick examination of his arms revealed thick hair. On his right hand seemed to be a brand: AJ. What was going on?!

"As opposed to what? Standing?" The woman shot back, ignoring Percy. She also had a high English voice.

"No, not standing. _Rowing." _

"Rowing? I hadn't planned on it." The woman turned to Percy and handed him a box. Percy took it curiously.

"What's this?"

"So you expect _me _to shoulder the burden?!" The man seemed to have ignored Percy yet again. The demigod looked down at the box. _Percy Jackson, Seventh Cavalry, Wounded Knee. _Percy had definitely never been in a cavalry, nor had he ever been near Wounded Knee. He remembered vaguely that it was over a hundred years ago.

"Excuse me, ma'am? I never -" Percy was once again cut off.

The woman scoffed. "No. But I do expect you to do all the rowing."

"And why's that?"

"Coming here was _your_ idea."

"_My_ idea?"

"Why, yes! I've made it very clear that I don't believe in the exercise."

"The rowing?"

"No. I imagine that's wonderful exercise."

"Then what?"

"The entire thought experiment."

Percy cleared his throat again. "What's going on? Where are we going?"

"One goes into an experiment knowing one could fail." Of course, they ignored him.

"But one does not go into an experiment knowing one HAS failed."

Percy looked down at the box again. He decided to open it. The two continued on with their nonsense. "Can we get back to the rowing?"

"I suggest you do, or we are never going to get there."

The box clicked open. A simple handgun sat in the bottom of the box - an old design, World War I era weapon. Percy had learned how to handle guns at Camp, but... "No, I mean I would greatly appreciate it if you would assist!"

A picture below the gun was of a young girl. On a hunch, Percy flipped it. _Bring to New York unharmed. _"Wait... _Bring us the girl... wipe away the debt..." _He muttered to himself. Also in the box was a couple of silver dollar coins, a picture of an angel statue, a key, and drawing of kind. "What's going on here?"

"You should ask him. I suppose he has a greater interest in getting there than I do." Now they were definitely talking about Percy.

"I suppose he does. But there's no point in asking."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't row."

"He doesn't _row?"_

"No. He _doesn't _row."

"Ah. I see what you mean."

The row boat pulled into a dock. A lighthouse was visible through the storm. "We've arrived." The woman confirmed.

"Am I in a dream? What's going on?" Percy demanded again.

"He hasn't moved." The two continued to rabbit on, pretending to ignore person.

"Ah. But he will."

"Yes. I suppose he does."

Percy glanced to his left, noticing a ladder leading onto the pier. "No help? Nothing?"

"He moves eventually. He already did, and will."

Percy just shook his head. He grabbed a hold of the ladder and hauled himself onto the pier. "Should we tell him when we'll be back?"

"It might give him some comfort."

"Well at least that's something we can agree."

The rowboat began to paddle away. "Am I meeting somewhere here? What's-"

"I'd certainly hope so."

"It does seem like a rather dreadful place to be stranded." The boat disappeared into the fog.

Percy huffed angrily. He looked up at the lighthouse. "I bet it's dry in there... it'd be a nice place to sort this out..."

He hurried up the steps to the lighthouse, shoving open the door. He was absolutely soaked, and he was relatively unused to the feeling. He glanced down at his clothing to see if it had been affected. He once again gasped.

He was wearing something completely foreign to him. His pants were long, pin-striped black dress pants. Polished black leather shoes were on his feet. He wore a black dress shirt on his torso, with a white undershirt underneath. A messy, dark green, unbuttoned vest was worn as well, with an old crimson corvat tied in a garbled knot and left in two. Percy felt ridiculous.

"Which god did this to me?!" He called out. He hadn't even given a thought to if someone was in the tower - at this point, he was fairly certain it was a dream. He looked around at the room he was in - a small, circular one. Everything was made of either wood or iron. In the center was a water basin. Above it was a framed quote:

**OF THY  
SINS**

**SHALL I  
WASH  
THEE**

Percy approached the basin and looked down into it, and was taken aback. He was _old. _Well, fine, not terribly old, but late thirties, early forties at least. Unruly black hair (which had attempted to be a combover, unsuccessfully) and the green eyes were the same, but some thick scruff was present and he had some not-too-flattering wrinkles on his face. Yeah, this had to be a dream.

He glanced back up at the message. "Hmmph... don't think so."

He made for the stairs, looking at another message - **FROM SODOM SHALL I LEAD THEE. **"Is anyone here?! Hello?"

No answer. Percy shrugged. The next floor of the lighthouse seemed to be a living area - and recently lived in, too. Lights were on, the bed was messy, and even an old-timey radio was spewing some nearly unintelligible music. Percy made to continue up the staircase, but he noticed a few overturned pieces of furniture and blood stains on the carpets. _Great. This is getting better by the minute. _

He headed up the staircase, noting another piece of nonsense - **TO THINE OWN LAND SHALL I TAKE THEE. **These people seemed to be into their religion a bit too much. As he entered the next room, he gagged.

A dead body was propped up in a chair - kidnapped, head covered in a sack. A clean bullet hole went right through the sack. _Looks like it came from a Mauser round. _How had he known that? The thought popped into his head.

Percy shivered. "This really... really isn't right." He opened his little case. He pulled out the pistol left for him, and cocked it. It was loaded. He didn't have Riptide. He might have need of the thing. He noticed that his little costume had a holster. He stuck the Broadsider into it. Wait... okay, the pistol was a Broadsider. _Thanks brain. _

Percy continued to ascend. **"IN NEW EDEN SOIL SHALL I PLANT THEE," **He muttered to himself, passing another bit of scripture. What god would plop him in a dream with Christian messages? He tried not to dwell on that. Once he got to the roof, it would all be explained. Hopefully.

The light at the top of the tower spun around as was typically. The door to the room seemed to be some sort of puzzle - three bells were mounted on the door, one for a Scroll, one for a Key, one for a Sword. Percy again cracked open his Wounded Knee box, examining the drawing - the code for the door. "There we go," He muttered. He rang the Scroll once, the Key twice, and the Sword twice.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. "Huh. That's-"

A foghorn sounded, straining Percy's eardrums. The sky lit up with a blood red tone. "What the -" The horn beeped again.

As it died, a light flashed in the lamp room nine times, followed by three more foghorn blasts. It must have been the gods. The door finally clicked open, and the light had been replaced by a red chair. Percy wondered if it had been by magic or if he'd just missed the chair flip up from the ground or something.

As soon as he stepped into the chair room, the door clicked shut behind him. "Great... only one way out of this now." It seemed almost too obvious to be a trap. Percy looked around for a control panel, but could find no such thing. Sighing, he sank into the chair, even putting his arms on the rests. "So now wha-" Clasps had clenched his arms in place. "Oh no." This suddenly didn't feel like a dream anymore.

A voice recording snapped in noisily in the background. "Make yourself ready, pilgrim. The straps are there as a safeguard."

The chair rotated slowly. Pieces of metal began to rise out of the floor, locking him into a small metal cone. "This cannot be good... gah!" The chair jerked downwards downs the floor, but he saw none. Instead he saw rockets. The Broadsider fell out of his holster. "Dammit!" The engines for the rockets began to light up.

"ASCENSION... ascension in the count of five... count of four... three..."

"No no no no no no." Percy wondered briefly what his grave would look like - _Percy Jackson. Died in a deathtrap mini-rocket wearing stupid clothes. _And that was if Zeus was feeling generous and didn't zap him out of the sky the moment the rocket launched. His chair was jerked into place right in front of the window - so he could watch himself die, presumably.

"Two... One... ascension... ascension..."

The rocket took off. "No!" Percy vomited out of the bottomless rocket, his chair being connected to it by mere metal bars.

"Five thousand feet..."

"Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm..."

"Ten thousand feet..."

Percy's reflection flickered in the window - his aged face, something he barely recognized. That would be the last thing he'd see.

"Fifteen thousand feet..."

The rocket pushed through a thick black cloud until emerging into a light so blinding he couldn't see for several seconds.

"Hallelujah."

A city.

Built in the clouds.

A passive ballad of vaguely patriotic music came over the recording now. "Wha...?"

The place was beautiful. A collection of buildings and towers and bridges, all gently bobbing up and down using balloons or propellers or... by god, it was amazing. The different sections were all at different heights. It was... overwhelming, to say the least. It was so colorful, so... immortal.

A humongous floating tower in the shape of an angel dominated the view. Many smaller statues were also pure eye candy. How was this possible?

Percy felt a parachute deploy. He was too stunned by this amazing sight to notice it, until he began to descend. The rocket landed with a thud on a platform, and began to sink into a chute of some sort.


	2. Two: Love the Sinner, for He is You

_"The mind of the subject will desperately struggle to create memories where none exist..."_

_- R. Lutece, 1889, Barriers to Trans-Dimensional Travel_

* * *

**WHY WOULD HE SEND**  
**HIS SAVIOR UNTO US**

**IF WE WILL NOT RAISE**  
**A FINGER FOR OUR**  
**OWN SALVATION?**

**AND THOUGH WE**  
**DESERVED NOT HIS**  
**MERCY,**

**HE HAS LED US**  
**TO THIS NEW EDEN,**

**A LAST CHANCE**  
** FOR REDEMPTION.**

The propaganda was _huge_ here.

Percy's rocket had landed on some sort of chute, and it had taken him down into some kind of church, with nice little brainwashing messages on the way down. Eventually the rocket stopped, and the sides of the rocket began to slide down.

The wrist guards snapped off, and Percy rubbed his wrists gratefully. His Wounded Knee box was still present on his lap. He glanced out of the rocket to see a stained glass image of a Santa-Claus-looking man pointing to a floating city, with the big stylized subtitle reading something Percy couldn't quite make out from afar. His dyslexia was messing with him again.

He opened the box one more. Whoever lived in this magical city probably thought that serving in Wounded Knee was a generally bad thing, so he had to ditch the box. He shoved the money and the key into his pocket, taking the time to examine the rest of the content. The picture of the girl. He'd need that. The coordinates for New York City. He could do that without thinking about it. He paused, while looking at the angel statue photograph.

Scrawled in the corner of the photo, Percy struggled to read _Monument Island. The girl is in the head. _Great. Infiltrating a beautiful, most likely beloved landmark. If he got all the way there and didn't find any answers... he'd be infuriated. This was going to be hard.

Percy folded up the girl and the statue, shoving them into a vest pocket. He stood up shakily. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he stumbled forward, his body not adjusting to the obvious changes in altitude. He noted dimly as he face-first onto the floor was that the whole temple seemed to have a bit of water covering the floor. _At least it won't hurt. _

He was wrong.

As soon as he became submerged under the water that was only a few inches deep, he could tell something was off. The water seemed... unnatural. It was too sweet, like sugerwater. He barely had time to think one word:

Lethe.

He was... wait...

Who was he again?

* * *

He stumbled to his feet, his vision blurry. He looked down at his dropped box. _Percy Jackson, Seventh Cavalry, Wounded Knee. _Percy Jackson... that was his name. Wounded Knee... His vision went black and white, and fuzzy. He felt moisture below his nose. He touched it. Blood.

He was suddenly in South Dakota, wearing a stuff blue uniform. He was reloading a rifle. He remembered... slaughtering the women and children... the shame... the torture... their anguished screams...

He couldn't go through with it. A dip in the river wouldn't erase the things he'd done. He internalized it.

A few years later. A child. A woman giving birth. She died. Percy was... sad. Yes.

Twenty years later. An office. Empty bottles of alcohol. A bang at the door. "Mister Jackson! MISTER JACKSON! Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt!"

Yes... he was in this floating city. _Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt..._

Paying back his debts. Finding the girl. New York... unharmed...

_Bring us the Girl... wipe away... the debt..._

Columbia. The floating city in the sky. Rosalind Lutece. A technological marvel. Monument Island. The Girl...

He just had to find her.

* * *

Percy stopped bleeding from his nose. His vision returned to standard. He was okay again.

His clothes were dry. How were they dry? Oh well, he couldn't dwell on that fact. They _were _rather dapper, so he wasn't complaining.

He was in a church of some kind, clearly. The stained glass and chorus that was somewhere singing _Will the Circle be Unbroken _indicated that. Percy... he wasn't a religious man. He knew that much. He couldn't remember why. He just wasn't.

Percy needed to get out of here, and find the Girl. That much was clear to him. So he pressed on into the hallway, pausing to read:

**THE SEED OF THE PROPHET  
SHALL SIT THE THRONE AND DROWN IN FLAME  
THE MOUNTAINS OF MAN**

He moved passed a statue of some guy with an impressive beard to see a man in a white robe looking at him intently. "Excuse me? Where am I?"

The man responded back cheerfully, "Heaven, friend. Or as close as we'll see until Judgement Day."

Percy snorted internally. _Hmph... Heaven... _His vision went slightly blurry again.

He continued down some stairs, noting the three images on the wall - "_Gladium_, _Clavem_, and _Volumen_... the Sword, the Key, and the Scroll," he muttered to himself as he headed down. He wondered for a brief second how he knew Latin. He stopped, as it hurt his head.

A larger room now opened up to him. He overheard some kind of sermon - "...And every year on this day of days, we recommit ourselves to this city, and to our prophet, Father Comstock."

Percy waded up through a pool of water nearly to his waist. He thought it odd how he did not get wet, even in the slightest. But he tried not to think about it. "We recommit through sacrifice, and the giving of thanks, and by the submerging ourselves in the sweet waters of Baptism.

"And lo, if the prophet had struck down our enemies at Wounded Knee, and had not railed against the Sodom below, it would have been enough."

Percy reached the group of people listening to the preacher talk.

"If the prophet had just railed against the Sodom below, but had not accepted the three golden gifts of the Founders, it would have been enough.

"If the prophet had just accepted the golden gifts of the Founders, and had not prayed for our deliverance, IT would have been enough.

"IF the prophet had only prayed for our deliverance, and not led us to this New Eden, it would have been enough!

"If the prophet had just led us to this New Eden and not purged the vipers of the Orient, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH!

"If the prophet had just purged the vipers of the Orient, but not suffered the sacrifice of his Beloved, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH!

"If the prophet had only suffered the loss of his beloved, but not expelled the Vox Populi, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH!"

"Lord, hear our prayer."

The preacher and the listeners all bowed their heads in silence. Talking to this preacher guy was clearly the way of getting out of here. So he strong-armed his way in front of the listeners.

"Is it someone new? Someone from the Sodom below... Newly come to Columbia to become washed clean, before our prophet, our Founders, and our Lord?"

"I just need passage into the city." Percy said, albeit in a small voice. This preacher... he terrified Percy for some reason.

"Passage into the city?" The preacher laughed mightily. Percy glanced back at all the listeners, noting that they all had blonde hair and blue eyes. "Brother, the only way into the city is through rebirth in the sweet waters of Baptism. Will you be cleansed, brother?"

_It's either this or turn around and get back on that rocket. _Percy definitely didn't want to do that. Something about God striking him down, maybe? He couldn't remember,

Percy took the preacher's outstretched hand. The preacher snapped Percy roughly into position. "Hey!-"

"I baptize you, in the name of or prophet, in the name of our Founders, and in the name of our Lord!" The old man's hand pushed Percy's head underwater with strength he didn't expect.

Percy began to panic as the preacher held him under. He couldn't breath. But... he... should be able to breath... His nose bled...

"... and make him born again, in the bosom of Columbia!" The preacher pulled Percy out again. Percy was once again dry, but if the prophet noticed he said nothing. "I don't know, brothers and sisters! But this one doesn't look clean enough to me..."

"No-" The preacher shoved Percy's head under again. And held it under.

* * *

Percy was behind a desk. His desk. He knew that much.

He also could tell it was a dream. He had experiences with those. He was sure of it.

He had seemingly just woken up. He lifted his head off the desk. Empty beer bottles, an ashtray, a Broadsider handgun, and tickets to horse-racing were scattered on his workspace. Right. Percy drank, smoked, and gambled. He... he remembered that. Definitely.

There was a banging at the door. "Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt!"

Percy took a moment to scan the little office he was in. It was small, cramped and held a lot of garbage. The calendar on his desk read July 3rd, 1912. The place seemed devoid of color. Oh... the vision was in black and white. Maybe that was it. "What do you want?" He asked the person at the door wearily.

"We had a deal, Jackson! Open this door, right now!"

Suddenly, Percy remembered. This was three days ago. This was how he got on that rowboat to the lighthouse. "I told you, I'm not going to do it! Now go away." Percy heard himself say sloppily. He wasn't in control of his speech.

"OPEN THIS DOOR, RIGHT NOW!"

Percy grunted, then got up. He stumbled to the door. He shoved it open.

The New York skyline was on eye level with him. But it was different than the one he was used to. But... it wasn't. It was like there was two memories in the same place...

Zeppelins up above rained fired on New York. A city in the sky could be seen floating above ominously, an angel statue seemingly glaring down at those unfortunately enough to get in the way of the fire. It was... Columbia. Destroying New York.

One of the war zeppelins turned towards Percy. It shot a fire bomb directly at him.

* * *

"Annabeth..."

"Malcolm, we're on to something here. I'm not stopping now."

Percy was somewhere else again.

There were two people in a laboratory somewhere... underground maybe? Percy sensed Long Island Sound nearby. So most likely Long Island. That... should have held some significance to him... but... it didn't. It was another dream or vision. Black and white.

"This is forbidden work, sister. If mother found out we were doing this..."

The girl glared down at the boy. _Annabeth... _The Girl. No... she wasn't the Girl. The Girl had black hair, and blue eyes. Annabeth had blonde hair and grey eyes. The name Annabeth bounced in Percy's unconscious thoughts like a pinball. She was important to Percy. Percy could tell he didn't have any strong feeling either way with Malcolm. He had brown hair, grey eyes, and talked with a slight Southern accent, as if he was trying to cover it up as much as he could.

How had he known what color their hair was? Their eyes? The vision was in black and white...

"Mother refused to talk about this with me about this. She already knows."

"Great. So we're on the Olympians' hit list already."

"Hush."

_The Olympians..._

Annabeth turned towards a machine behind her. It was rather large - Percy wasn't quite sure how he missed it earlier. Annabeth looked at it, and grabbed a blue bottle, and shoved it into the power conduit. The machine whirred.

Large arcs of electricity rippled over the device's arms, like a Tesla Coil. "This doesn't look safe at all."

"We did all the research together. It's going to work."

Percy noticed that something was present in the center of the device - some sort of... a ripple in the air. _A Tear. _He hated Tears. He couldn't remember why.

Annabeth brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Okay. Here we go..." She took an athletic stance, as if she were boxing out in basketball. Her hands reached out and grabbed the ripple in the air. And she pulled it apart.

A hole opened up, and suddenly it was as if a window of black and white was suspended in mid air. Percy realized that he was watching a Tear through another Tear. Odd. "It... worked. Annabeth... I... I can't believe it!"

Annabeth seemingly saw something through the window. She reached through and grabbed it, pulling it through into her own world. She attempted to close the Tear in reality, but she couldn't. "Deactivate the machine!"

Malcolm tried to shut it off, using controls on a console, but it had no effect. The Tear seemed to be growing larger. "Take out the fuel! Something!"

Annabeth's brother dashed up to the machine, and pulled out the blue bottle of... something. Some kind of energy, maybe? The machine turned off - but the Tear remained open. Annabeth was struggling to keep hold of the Tear barriers, barely keeping it from getting out of control. Malcolm grabbed it too, and they eventually managed to shut it with the added effort.

They both stumbled back onto chairs, panting heavily. "I'm not doing that again. It's too dangerous. This is just foolish, no matter how you look at it." Malcolm stood up, then sat back down after realizing he was still incredibly out of breath.

Annabeth looked at him. "And what are you going to do? Are you going to weave? Maybe go draw up Capture the Flag strategies?"

Malcolm frowned. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that this is the only way we can do something with our gifts from Mom, Malcolm! Weaving? Useless. Battle strategy? No one in the mortal world uses swords anymore, that's pointless. But science..." Annabeth gazed at the device with longing. "This is my... OUR future. What are my other options as a demigod? Enlist in the army? Live here for the rest of my life?"

Malcolm stayed silent for nearly a minute. "Can't we just cure cancer or AIDS? Something a bit easier than... this?"

Annabeth looked at what had been clutched in her hand the whole time. A small calendar from the year 1886. "Trans-dimensional travel isn't easy, Malcolm, but we can make a true difference. Don't you want that?"

Malcolm grimaced. "This is against Mother's wishes. If you want to continue your research down here, then fine. But you shouldn't expect any help from me."

"Brother-"

Malcolm rose to his feet and steadied himself, making sure he had the stamina. "Don't come to me for protection when Athena realizes what you're truly doing here. You're carving your own path."

Annabeth sighed. She stood up shakily and returned to tinker with the device.

* * *

Percy slowly woke up. He was elated to see color again.

He lifted himself out of the baptismal waters, not wet in the slightest. That was an impressive power to have. He appeared to have washed up in a garden of some sort, with three statues overlooking him. There were also a few people praying who seemed to pay Percy no mind.

"And how do we know this is the New Eden? Are we to rely on our own pride to make it so?"

"No. Because our pride cannot make it so." Three other people responded to the speaker at once. Another prayer, it seemed.

"We know because the Angel Columbia favored our Founders with three gifts of gold."

"To Father Washington, she granted a sword of gold, so that Eden would have strength that set her above all other nations. To Father Franklin, a key of gold, so that Eden might have industry above all other nations. To Father Jefferson, a scroll, so that Eden might have law above all other nations.

"And so each year, we recommit ourselves to our Founders, and to our Prophet, Father Comstock. So that we may follow in the prophet's path."

"AMEN."

Percy glanced up at the three statues, realizing they were of Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, and Thomas Jefferson. "Well that's a hell of a thing..." He muttered to himself. "Excuse me? Where am I?" Percy asked the prayer circle.

"New Eden, pilgrim." A woman responded.

"I mean, where in the city?" Percy had figured out that Eden, New Eden, and Columbia all meant the same thing: the floating city. The one he was in.

The members of the prayer circle had either gone back to praying or had just chosen to ignore him. "Right..." Percy headed up a set of stairs, noting two more people who were praying silently. And then some guy who was muttering about George Washington crossing the Delaware with a flaming sword. Others in the garden seemed to be praying equally ridiculous things to Franklin and Jefferson.

Percy finally came to a large set of white doors. He turned to the nearest pilgrim. "Is this the way into the city?"

The woman looked up at him. "Yes, my brother. May the Founders and the prophet be with you."

"Yeah. Sure."

Percy pushed open the doors, and the city was finally revealed to him up close.


	3. Three: The City Lighter Than Air

_"And then the archangel showed a vision... a city lighter than air. I asked her 'Why do you show this to me archangel? I am not a strong man, I am not a righteous man, I am not a holy man.' and she told me the most remarkable thing. "You're right prophet, but if grace is within the grasp of one such as you, How can anyone else not see it within themselves?'"_

-Zachary Hale Comstock, September 9th, 1893

* * *

The total beauty of Columbia struck Percy at once.

After stepping out of the garden, he was immediately in an area of the city. A huge statue depicted a bearded man with a sword dominated the area, but other nice things were around too. A couple of people were chattering mindlessly about things that didn't matter. Percy tried listening in nonchalantly, but he couldn't discern any useful information. He guessed that it might have a map or something.

A man selling hot dogs cornered Percy; the man was starving, and he couldn't resist. Percy was soon munching on a delicious sky hot dog, and he continued towards the statue.

He stopped for a moment to admire everything. Little clusters of building floated in the background among the clouds. Some sort of sky-rail system allowed crates of freight to be transported quickly. A store seemed to float down and connect onto the main city. It was a lot to take in.

The man depicted in stone was in a flowing jacket. His incredibly masculine, Santa Claus-esque beard flew around his face. His right hand held a sword tightly - a sword that... Percy swore recognized... but he couldn't remember. The whole statue made this Comstock guy seem like a Greek God.

He found a few people enjoying a picnic on a small strip of grass before the statue. "Uh, excuse me? Do you know the way to angel statue?"

A woman fanned herself. "I'm sorry, sir. The Angel of Columbia is closed. But you can get a nice view of it that-a-way." The woman pointed down a brightly lit street to Percy's left. "And sir?"

"Yes?"

"You have mustard in your beard." The picnic-goers - all of whom were woman, upon closer examination - giggled madly. Percy muttered a thanks and headed along the street, digging through his facial hair to eliminate the condiment.

Percy strolled up the street, having to shield his eyes from the blinding sun. He blended in with the crowd, trying to avoid attracting any sort of attention. Getting anywhere near the statue would be harder for him if he had a target painted on his chest.

He noticed a few things that were ominously off-putting. For one, he saw a mechanical horse. The thought that someone had just thrown together some metal and electricity and made something as organic as a horse bothered Percy for some reason, though he couldn't place why. Also, he'd heard people talking about attacks from "anarchists." Of course a city as immortal as this had people trying to tear it down.

A parade was rolling by as Percy reached the end of the street. He had no way of getting across until the little show ended, so he decided to watch and listen. "After the victory at Wounded Knee, the angel Columbia did present herself to Father Comstock and show him a vision of the future," came the voice from a man with a megaphone. The first floating float (ha-HAAAA) depicted an angel present herself to a man with white hair. Percy clenched his fists. There was no "victory" at Wounded Knee. He... was there. It was a slaughter.

"And so our Prophet led the people away from the Sodom below, up, up into the city, where they created an even more perfect union." Comstock was seen pointing to the clouds, like in the stained glass image in the temple.

"But it was the miracle child, the lamb, that is the future of our city!" The next float depicted Comstock and a woman looking fondly down at a baby. Hmm. Sounded a bit like Jesus. "...For the Prophet has said that she will lead the Sodom below into righteousness!"

That was the end of that. The bridge to next area dropped down, and Percy made his way across it leisurely. He noted a sign - "Columbia Raffle and Fair." Well, at least he chose the right day to come to city. No one would suspect an act of terrorism on the day of a fair.

Percy followed the path a bit farther, keeping to himself and trying not to look at anyone. He did stop briefly to listen to a barbershop quartet - they were singing something called "God Only Knows". Percy had a vague memory of hearing it before, but that... didn't make any sense. On a sign it stated that the song was only being played at the fair, _today. _It must've been deja vu.

After stepping through an archway, he could finally see the Angel of Columbia. The statue was huge, floating in the air, and seemed to be gilded with a layer of gold. Obviously not solid gold, anyway. Percy smiled. He finally had an objective he could see.

A boy came running up to him. "Telegram, Mr. Jackson!"

"Wha-"

"Telegram for you, sir."

The boy handed him a slip of paper and then ran off. Percy examined, squinting. His dyslexia could barely make out the typewriting font.

**Jackson STOP**

**Do not alert Comstock to**

**your presence STOP**

**Whatever you do, do not**

**pick #77 STOP**

** -Lutece**

"What the..." Percy folded the telegram into his pocket. Don't pick #77. Okay.

He headed up a set of stairs, going towards the cheering crowds. He noted on his left that some crazy guy was talking about "Vigors". Basically magic drinks that could make you shoot fire out of hands of something like that. Sounded like a scam to Percy.

Percy headed into the fair, and instantly got a childish itch to play a carnival game. "Cast Out the Devil" seemed to be the first one he found. Why not? He approached the man running the booth. "Sir, step right up and try out the amazing power of Bucking Bronco!"

"Bucking Bronco? What's that?"

"A fair Vigor, used by the Columbian Police Force. Well, what are you waiting for? Give it a taste!" Percy looked down uncertainly at the small bottle in front of him. It was amber, and the entire cap seemed to be a man on a horse.

"And this stuff is safe?"

"Absolutely, sir. Make sure you drink a bottle of Salts before you use that Vigor, or else you will throwing air." Percy looked at the man with confusion. "Here's a bottle of Salts on the house." The small blue bottle was no bigger than a shot glass. Percy downed in, understanding why it was called Salts. It tasted like... salt.

Percy glanced back at the Bucking Bronco. "No side affect? A third arm? Nothing like that?"

"As far as we can tell, they are absolutely harmless. Now, go on." Percy picked up the bottle, removed the cap and downed it. It tasted a bit like licorice, if licorice was around fifty percent chalk. His hands felt as if the muscle and skin were about to separate from the bone. Percy was pretty sure he screamed. and then it was over.

"Gah... what the hell was that?"

"The Vigor doing it's job! Now you can begin. Find the Devil and cast him out! Protect the woman and child!"

Suddenly, a man in a costume was not so subtlety hiding behind a chair. Percy pointed at the costumed man, and his hand glowed a bright orange. A wave of energy erupted forward and the man levitated five feet off the ground. "How is that possible?!" Percy demanded.

"The wonders of Bucking Bronco!"

Percy hit the next two devils with ease, collecting a few dollars as a "reward". Percy felt the rush of energy that Bucking Bronco gave him wear off. Shame it was only a sample. That would've been useful.

The next thing that caught his eye was a booth called "The Arms of Neptune" which immediately drew Percy in. He was the only one apparently interested. The man running the both said to Percy, "Come to try the great Vigor, Undertow? Well, do I have a challenge for you. Go ahead - try the sample."

Percy looked at the bottle - a blue thing with an octopus on it. Fairly simple, compared to Bucking Bronco. Percy readied himself and chugged the Vigor. It tasted like river brine - not as strong as Salts, but equally as disgusting. He suddenly felt around one hundred times stronger. He looked down at his hands to see water rushing in between his fingers. And then his little trip ended.

"Alright, my good man - try to grab the objects using Undertow." Percy stepped forward, and his instincts took over. He wasn't exactly sure how it happened.

He thrusted out his left hand, and a thick tendril of water grabbed a hold of a bottle. With his right hand, he grabbed a few others. He began to juggle the bottles using only the water, something which caught the attention of the people behind him. When he thought he was about done, he tossed the bottle against the wall, where they shattered.

"My, my, that was _quite _the display, sir! Here, take the full Vigor - I think you've earned it as a prize."

Percy glanced at his prize in awe. He'd... he'd never used that Vigor before in his life, but he'd just manipulated water like a champ. It was a little more than odd. He drank the true Undertow, yet experienced no sort of hallucination. Even stranger.

He realized he needed to be going. His debts wouldn't pay for themselves, after all. He walked passed some more carnival games, but none of them were about Vigors, so he didn't mind. Then he saw the Handyman and froze.

The monstrosity had the body of a hulking automaton, yet the head of an old man. The crier next to him was shouting about how such a "technological marvel" could only exist in Columbia. The Handyman was clearly unwilling - he was trying to cover his face with his robotic hands and almost fell over when a picture was taken. Percy despised everything about this. He huffed, and turned to find the exit.

The gate was guarded by a robot of some kind. "Sorry, the raffle is sold out!" It said cheerfully.

Great. He was just about to backtrack when he saw a woman with a basket of Vigors. "Excuse me, sir? Have you ever lost a penny to a vending machine? Has a pay telephone ever refused to collect you with a beloved spouse?"

No and no, Percy thought.

"Well! It's time to take back control from the men of metal!"

"What are you selling, miss?" Percy asked politely.

The woman gave him a grin. "I'm selling the Possession Vigor, sweetie; if you buy it, you'll know how to use it."

_Take back control from the men of metal. _Percy glanced back at the gate guard. He probably couldn't afford the Vigor, so he'd have to rely on his charm alone. He tried to give her a dazzling smile. "Alright, sweetheart. How much for one?"

If possible, the woman's grin got wider. "Normally, I'd have to charge you, but I just can't stand seeing a man that charming and handsome part with his Silver Eagles. This is on the house."

Percy's subpar charm skills had actually gotten him somewhere? Shocking. Maybe he was just that man-pretty. "Thank you." Percy flashed a smile again, and the lady swooned.

She handed Percy a bottle. It seemed to be more like a standard soda bottle, other than the cap, which was a heart with a blade through it. Odd. Percy popped off the top and chugged it. This was a mixture between mint and cola, and still a bit chalky like Bucking Bronco. Then everything got blurry; Percy stumbled, then looked up to see the vender tracing a heart, which left a green outline. This was a serious trip.

The woman got close to Percy. "With just a whisper, they're all ears..." she pecked him on the lips.

When the little hallucination ended, Percy saw the woman walk away with a little sway to her hips.

Okay...

Percy tried to erase that from his memory as he approached the machine. He looked down to see green light shimmering on his right hand. He glanced around him to make sure no one was looking at him. He pointed his Vigor-infused hand at the robot.

"Assemblymen Buford! Your spot at the raffle awaits!" The gate swung open, and Percy strode through, only to walk straight into a man and woman. But obviously not a normal man and woman. The man was wearing a sandwich board with tallies of heads and tails. Heads had twelve tallies, tails had zero. The woman was holding a large platter. But that wasn't the strange part.

They were both identical. Same clothing, same hair color, same facial features. Identical twins, maybe?

"Heads?"

"Or tails?"

Percy was ambushed immediately with this. And then something clicked. "Hey, aren't you the same two from the-"

The woman tossed him a Silver Eagle. "Heads?"

"Or tails?"

Percy sighed. "Heads." He flipped the coin on the platter, and the woman looked down at it with an annoyed expression.

The man looked over at the woman smugly. "Told you."

"Hmmph." The woman tallied yet another Heads coin flip with a piece of chalk.

"I never find that as satisfying as I had imagined." The man complained.

"Chin up. There's always next time."

"I suppose there is."

Percy walked passed the pair, stopping for a moment to glance at the back of the sandwich board. Every single tally had been for Heads - it had to be over a hundred. Add that to the list of all the strange things going on in this city.

And the two reminded him immensely of the pilots of the rowboat; same accents, same mannerisms. but it couldn't have been. The two couldn't have gotten up to Columbia before him. It must have just been an uncanny resemblance.

Percy continued, taking the only available road. He knew he was moving in the right direction; he just needed to find to the Angel of Columbia again. It couldn't have been too hard. He noticed a couple of policemen were looked and playing with a rotary blade of some kind.

On the next road was a statue of a man - not Comstock or Washington or Jefferson or Franklin. It seemed to be... now it wasn't a man. It was a woman. A woman who beared uncanny resemblance to the British coin lady. Things were descending more and more into things that didn't make sense. He didn't take the time to stop and read the statue, he just kept moving. Until he became face to face with a sign.

**You shall know the False Shepard... BY HIS MARK! **The poster showed a twisted, evil looking hand with a clearly printed "AJ" on it. "What the hell?" Percy looked at his own right hand, at the AJ brand. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten it, or why he'd decided to brand himself. He stuck his offending hand in his pocket and continued.

The Angel of Columbia was clearly visible again. Yes, this had to be the right way. He winded his way through more staircases and gardens and eventually found himself at some kind of stage. It must've been the raffle. A man with a top hat on stage seemed to be running it. "And now, let the 1912 raffle officially begin!"

"Mister! Mister!"

A young girl walked up to Percy with a basket full of baseballs, which must have been the raffle tickets. Strange. "Sorry, no sale." Percy said.

The girl giggled "Silly. There's never a charge for the raffle! You been living under a rock?"

Percy shrugged. He plucked a ball out of the basket and examined it. "Seventy-seven..."

"Seventy-seven? That's a lucky number. I'll be rooting for you!" Then the girl dashed off some place else.

Percy looked at his ball again. #77. He wasn't supposed to pick #77. Something was about to go wrong. He could feel it.

"Bring me... the bowl!" The top hat guy bellowed. The people cheered as the lady who gave me a baseball walked onto the stage. The man chuckled. "Is that not the prettiest young white girl in all of Columbia?"

Wait, what?

"Alright then... and the winner is... NUMBER SEVENTY-SEVEN!"

"Over there, he's the winner!" The ball lady pointed at Percy. He actually smiled a bit. He never won _anything. _

"Number seventy-seven, come and claim your prize! First throw!" The curtain drew back to reveal cardboard cutouts of jungle trees and monkeys. A lifetime supply of bananas, maybe?

And then he heard the screaming. Pulled forward were two people - a white man and an African woman. Tied to stakes. Struggling to get free. The man was pleading for the woman's life, saying that is was all him. All the while, the people behind were singing a wedding song. An interracial couple. Raw rage built up in Percy's gut.

"Come on, are you gonna throw it? Or are you taking your coffee _black _these days?" The man laughed at his own sick joke.

Percy seethed, glaring at the top hat wearing guy. "Looks like we've got a shy one here! Hahaha... we've gotta do something about that!"

The feeling of why everything that was slightly off in this city clicked. All the people he'd seen were white. They paraded Wounded Knee like it was the second Battle of Waterloo. THEY WERE GOING TO STONE THESE PEOPLE. Percy snapped. "I've got something for you, you son of a bitch!" He threw the baseball at the announcer, and connected with his temple with a sickening crucnch. He hit the floor.

"Arrest him! He's an anarchist! Vox Populi!" Policeman ran up to apprehend him. They tried to, anyway. "He's the False Shepard! Look at the brand!

Percy looked at the interracial couple. "I'll be right there! Just hold on!"

One policeman grabbed his left hand, and one grabbed his right. The cop on his left fired up one of those spinning rotary blades. _This was actually going to be the end. _Percy struggled, having no way of getting out. Unless...

He shoved a tendril of water downward using Undertow. The force of impact was so great that Percy flew backwards into a wall. He got up quickly. That spinning blade going into his neck would hurt. A lot. As the rest of the crowd dispersed, shouting and crying, at least five cops were in his immediate vicinity.

The first cop came at Percy with a nightstick. Percy ducked the strike and kicked out his legs, sending the cop onto the floor. A quick stomp on his head knocked him. Now he only had to take on four policemen with absolutely to weapon. Excellent.

A spinning blade using one attacked Percy next. He decided to try the Undertow Vigor again. He made a shield of water and held it in front of him, absorbed the strike. He then made a water spear and knocked out policemen number two.

The other three cops looked at Percy's Vigor-infused weapons and turned and ran. Percy let his weapons dissipated, and he grabbed the spinning blade from the ground. He slid it onto his left hand and pulled the trigger. It spun viciously. The words on the side of the weapon identified it as a "Skyhook".

Percy dashed over to the couple tied up. They flinched when Percy cranked up the Skyhook. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." Percy chopped off the ropes with the Skyhook, until the two were free again.

"Thank you so much, mister!" The woman gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"It was nothing. Now, get away before the police find you."

"Alright, sir! We won't forget you!" The man saluted as he grabbed his wife's hand and they ran off behind stage. Percy turned to jump off the stage, when he saw the announcer unconscious. He thought briefly about killing him, but didn't.

The three cops suddenly returned with guns. Great.


	4. Four: It Always Ends with Blood

_Father Comstock called on me today to write his biography. Me! The man pays for exactly 100 pages, in advance. Now, I'm half a Jew when I smell silver, so I say: 'Father, your flock would pay for a thousand, you know. Why settle for less?' And then, the Prophet looks to me and says, 'One hundred will suffice, as I know how it ends.'"_

_-_Ed Gaines, March 1st, 1912

* * *

The three gun-toting men fired immediately. Percy had no cover. All but one bullet missed.

A Broadsider round found his left arm. Trying to ignore it as best he could, Percy activated his water shield again, blocking the next shots. He managed to flank around them, deflected the bullets. But Percy began to tire, as he was running out of Salts. At the last second, he used a tendril of water to bind the cops together, as if they had been tied up. Percy dropped his shield.

He dashed up and delivered swift kicks to their heads, knocking them out. Percy picked up all of their pistols and sorted the ammunition he had. Two total clips. He'd have to make do with it until he found more Salts.

Percy looked down at his wound and groaned in pain. The bullet didn't go very deep, and it was clearly just a flesh wound. But it was bleeding. He tore a bit of fabric off of one of the copper's coats, and tied it off around the wound. It would have to do. Percy had been shot before.

Trying to ignore the pain, Percy went up a set of stairs. He had to be going in the right way. Where else could he go? After arriving the next little area, he immediately heard gunshots directed at him. Of course. Percy dove behind a ticket booth. He picked them all off slowly, trying not to waste any ammo. It took him awhile, but soon seven more of Columbia's Finest were out of commission. Percy swiped their pistols. He wouldn't take money out of a dead man's pocket. But his ammunition? Nothing wrong with that.

Percy took a deep breath a searched around the place, unfortunately finding exactly zero bottles of Salts. He sighed, gripping his Broadsider tightly. There had to be more coming for him.

* * *

"IT'S THE FIREMAN! Fireman's on his way!"

"It's the Fireman. He's here!"

"He'll take care of the son of a bitch!"

Percy absorbed more incoming shots with his water shield. "I'm so intimidated! Is he gonna pour water on me?!"

He took aim with his Broadsider. A quick _pang, _and the last policeman hit the floor. He'd fought his way up the street, using Possession to turn the turrets against the police force. It had worked remarkably well - he'd gotten through ten or more smoking guns without any more wounds to show for it. Now a metal gate stood before him.

Percy wiped his brow. "It's getting hot. That's... weird."

He shoved open the gate. He was greeted by a man wearing an iron exoskelton, and a heavy duty helmet. Boilers were seemingly on his back, and fired rippled in his hands. He practically radiated pure heat. "DIE IN THE NAME OF OUR PROPHET!"

Oh. Fireman. He got it.

The armored monstrosity hurled a ball of flame at Percy, which he deftly dodged. Percy threw in a spear of Vigor-fueled water, but it evaporated before it could do anything. "Oh you have GOT to be kidding me!" Percy fired a few shots from his Broadsider at the Fireman. If it did much damage than the... _thing _didn't show it.

Percy continued to fire, until his pistol clicked empty. The Fireman at this point was clearly feeling the effects of a man with a full clip of Broadsider rounds in him - he was moving more slowly, and the fireballs were coming less and less frequently. Percy wondered dimly how he did it, although later it seemed obvious to him that it was a Vigor. The Fireman's radiated heat seemed to lower and lower. Percy wondered...

Another spear of water flew from Percy's hand. It didn't do much, but it distracted him long enough for Percy to reload. Two more shots to the head finally ended it. As the supersoldier died, he exploded. A form of martyrdom, Percy supposed.

He shook his head clear. He needed to find the Girl before he was burnt to a crisp.

Another little area up ahead, another quick gunfight. Percy turned the turret against the cops, allowing him to hunker down and wait for it to be over. He realized he was out of Salts once again.

A quick scan of the area told Percy that he was, in fact, at a dead end. He saw a club up ahead - The Blue Ribbon. He holstered his handgun, and pushed open the doors. It wasn't as if he exactly had a ton of options.

Three nickelodeon style movies were present right at the door. Seeing as they were free and Percy detected no threat, he decided to watch them. The first showed pictures of the Angel of Columbia and said that the city had launched in 1895. The next film showed that Columbia had intervened in the Boxer Rebellion, and Washington was angry at Comstock for doing so. The third one talked about how the city had seceded from the United States.

So Columbia was a city full of sky racists who were now "Super-America", showing all the people belong how un-American they were. This Comstock guy was a real imbecile.

Percy treaded into the bar carefully. He was so startled to see people there that he put a bullet right in between the woman's eyes. It passed straight through her head, as if it weren't there.

"You missed."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw who was waiting for him.

"We have company."

"We do indeed."

The British twins again. The man was washing the counter, the woman was holding a platter with a yellow glowing bottle. "Why are you following me?" Percy demanded.

"We were already here."

"Why are _you _following _us?" _

"I..." Percy didn't have a comeback. He sighed out of frustration.

"Aperitif?" The woman suggested. Percy realized they were talking about the yellow... beverage. Percy approached cautiously.

"You'll find it handy in a pinch."

"The difference between life and death."

Percy took the bottle cautiously. He'd drank some pretty weird stuff today. The bottle was neatly labeled _Lutece Infusion. _Percy uncorked it and downed it in a single gulp. And it tasted like absinthe mixed with dishwater.

He retched, but he kept in the liquid in. He then felt a shock - like if you licked a battery, or if your friend had shock powers. Where had he gotten that idea... either way, the jolt sent him five feet straight into the air before he crashed back down. "Ugh... what was that?" He asked.

"The Lutece Repulsive Field," The man said, as if it answered everything.

"Hmm... surprising," The woman mused.

"Surprising that it worked?"

"Surprising that it didn't kill him," The woman clarified.

"And yet a magnetic-repulsive field around one's body can come in handy."

"If it doesn't kill you."

"A fair point."

Percy glared at the two. "What did I just drink?!"

"The Lutece Repulsive Field. Or LRF, if you prefer."

"It utilizes electric aura created by human being and amplifies it so that -"

"- it creates a pulsing, protective membrane around one's skin."

Percy looking at his arm, to see if things were visibly different. He saw nothing. "It's a shield, if you will."

"It can take multiple blows without incurring any danger to me. It absorbs the hit without pause."

"It also removes stains from clothing and skin. But not blood. Too strong for the field, sadly."

Percy tried to punch himself. The area where his fist struck glowed yellow, and Percy felt absolutely nothing. "That's amazing. How did you -" Percy looked up to see that the twins that disappeared. He sighed. Damn typical.

He exited out of the bad door coming to yet another dead end. The Angel of Columbia loomed so close overhead - he was maddeningly close to his goal. But he saw no way to proceed. Unless... the Skyhook! Of course! There was a freight hook up above that could give him access to the next platform. He equipped the gauntlet, and pulled the trigger. And then he was flung into the air.

"Whoa!" He landed perfectly fine, attached the freight hook. "Damn thing must be magnetized!"

He hopped from freight hook to freight hook, until he finally reached solid(ish) ground again. As soon as he landed, he saw more policemen. He mentally groaned, putting away his Skyhook and readying Undertow.

* * *

He fought through the residential areas of Columbia, pressing forward relentlessly. His new shield had come in handy, as the twins had said it would - Percy could take more chances and experiment a bit more with his Undertow Vigor. He'd discovered that if he threw his water shield after he stopped bullets with it, he could hurl it at someone and they would take damage as if they had been shot. It made little to no sense but Percy rolled with it.

He shoved open a door to another building. This seemed to be some sort of worshiping place for followers of Comstock, as the outside statuary said that he fought the "Serpent of Nations". The first obvious thing was the smell.

The place smelled of rotting food and feces. He clamped his nose with his hand and examined a platter of spoiled food. Portraits of various presidents dotted the walls, smattered with bird crap. Birds as black as night sat around, completely unperturbed by Percy's presense.

A banner hung over the doorway into the next room - ORDER OF THE RAVEN.

A statue in the next room proudly displayed a man brandishing a gun. The plaque below identified the man as John Wilkes Booth. Percy drew a China Broom shotgun off of his back - something he'd found while fighting to get here. He loaded it quickly, and then moved as silently as he could into the room on his left. If anyone was here, they deserved to die.

The next room seemed to be a dining hall. Spoiled food at in piles on the tables, with ravens picking at the scraps. A butler of some kind had his back to Percy - so Percy knocked him out before examining the decor.

A large painting depicting an angelic John Wilkes Booth shooting a demonic Abraham Lincoln hung on the wall. Dark draperies hung, covered in bird poop. Who lived in this place?! He glanced down at the unconscious butler, unsure if he deserved death. Percy though for a moment and then put a Broadsider round in his head.

Another room seemed to be a bar of some sort. Two people sat there, drinking. Two head shots, two more sky racists were dead.

The only way forward was a set of stairs on either side of the John Wilkes Booth statue. He headed up one, and came onto a balcony overlooking a speech of some kind. The speaker was surrounded by ravens.

"And so, the Prophet led us into Peking, where we demonstrated to the Sodom the true mission our Founders had given us."

Did the Founding Fathers even know where Peking was?

"And when the Mandarins and hypocrites of Washington betrayed him, our father did not heel! He did not come crawling-"

"Hey!" Percy yelled, readying his shotgun. He stood straight up so everyone saw him. "John Wilkes Booth went out like a coward!" And he fired.

* * *

"Sorry friend, but Monument Island is off limits!" The robot was being a jerk.

"Are you serious?!" Percy muttered to himself. He'd fought through approximately a gazillion more bad guys to get here, and now he couldn't take the gondola to the island? The Angel of Columbia was so close...

"All workers should proceed to the island by means of the Skyrail!" The robot added cheerfully

Percy pulled his Skyhook off his belt. If this this was magnetized enough to stick to hook, would it work on the rail system. He pointed the device at the rail and pulled the trigger.

He flew towards the line with blinding speed, and soon he was speeding along the rail. "Whoa!" The rail zipped around like it was a roller coaster, dipping up and down. Percy held on tight, realizing the obvious - letting go of the Skyhook was falling thousands of feet to his certain death. He rode it all the way up to a station, where he saw that a freight care blocked the way. In panic, he let go of the trigger, and he tumbled onto the deck of the station ungracefully. He found a lever to get the cars moving again, and soon he was zipping through the sky.

A constant fear gnawed at him, like he thought the sky was dangerous. Well, it was, but it was more of a "oh-god-please-don't-smite-me-for-doing-this" kind of feeling. He couldn't shake it.

* * *

"STAND DOWN!"

Comstock's voice came bellowing over an announcement system. Percy was zipping overhead some sort of building devoted to Comstock. He wanted to avoid it, but he could see plainly that his Skyrail was going in the wrong way, and that this building was the only way into Monument Island.

Percy dismounted from his rail, landed with a thud. All of the security officers there were kneeling - clearly in reverence to the Prophet. Percy walked past them and into the building, not giving it a second thought.

More soldiers were knelt before an elevator of some kind. The only way up seemed to be a lever. What other choice did Percy have? He pulled it, and he began to ascend upwards.

"I know why you've come, False Shepard. I can see all of your sins - working for the Pinkertons. The wars you fought in as a teenager. The alcohol and the gambling! And, of course... Anna." Comstock's voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

_ANNA..._ Percy's nose bled. Who was Anna, he... couldn't remember... not Annabeth, a different Anna...

"And now, as a last shot at redemption, you've come for my lamb. But not all debts can be repaid, Perseus Jackson."

A sharp pain rang out in Percy's head. He screamed in anguish. "How do you know my name?"

"Prophecy is my business, Percy. As yours in blood."

Percy... his business wasn't blood.. he was a good guy... right?

"What brought you here, Percy? 'Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt?' This will end in blood, Jackson. But then again... it always does with you, doesn't it?"

Percy touched his nose. It was positively gushing at this point.

"What the hell..."

"You've come to lead my lamb astray, but you can't! Your hands are caked with the blood of regret and loss, even if you don't remember it."

The platform finally reached the top. Percy dashed around the corner, China Broom in hand, trying not to dwell on Comstock's words. A zealot is a zealot.

"GO BACK TO NEW YORK!"

An explosion rocked the building. Percy realized that Comstock's zeppelin was trying to rocket him down. _He was in there._ Percy grimaced, and used his Skyhook to board it. He was going to kill Comstock. He had to.

He gunned down three of Comstock's cronies before kicking in the navigation chamber door. He expecting the racist Santa Claus to be in there, but of course he wasn't lucky enough. A small boy was sitting on the floor, praying in front of an idol to the Prophet. Percy holstered his China Broom. "I'm not going to hurt you," He vowed. but the boy ignored him, as if pretending like he didn't exist.

Percy approached the control panel. If Comstock wasn't actually here, then maybe he could use it as transportation to Monument Island. He had barely looked at the controls when a gunship entered the view of the front window. It floating up right into the path of the blimp - but the blimp suddenly stopped moving forward.

And who was on the gunship but Comstock himself, holding a microphone. He had a ring of kneeling soldiers around him. "You know, they say the Lord forgives everything. Well... I'm just a Prophet. I don't have to."

"Amen." Came a small voice from behind Percy. He whipped around to see the small child with a torch held high over his head. Oil was on the floor below him. "NO! DON'T DO THAT!" Percy cried. Too late.

The child dropped the torch and became engulfed in flame. "Jesus!" Percy cried. The wooden... everything of the zeppelin began to catch flame. The child... he'd just...

Percy couldn't dwell on it. He ran out of the control room and realized his only way out was through the bomber doors on the bottom. He struggled to create an opening large enough for him, working as fact as he could. He saw a Skyrail below.

Percy sent a silent prayer to God as he dropped down and he attached to the rail. "Holy crap, that was too close..." Percy dismounted roughly on a platform. He realized exactly where he'd landed - Monument Island. What a form of sick, twisted luck.


	5. Five: Come to Lead the Lamb Astray

_"When I was a girl, I dreamt of standing in a room looking at a girl who was and was not myself, who stood looking at another girl, who was and was not myself. My mother took this for a nightmare. I saw it as the beginning of a career in physics."_

-Rosalind Lutece, August 10th, 1887

* * *

Percy sank into a bench. The Girl was so close, but he needed a rest.

A bottle of cola sat neatly on a table, and Percy thought that whoever needed it certainly wasn't here to defend it. He began to sip at the beverage, letting it's taste and pop reinvigorate him. It had been awhile since he tasted cola. He... he remembered that he was a fan of booze.

He groaned, rubbing his left arm. He wasn't young anymore. He... how old was he again? 38. Yeah. That's right.

Sighing, he stood up, seeing no food. He trudged to the doors of the facility were had red signs denoting that it was restricted. Percy snorted. He walked through the door.

Signs all around the welcome center spoke of a quarantine, and that the "specimen" was dangerous. Percy guessed that the specimen was the Girl. "Why would they keep her here? What were they scared of?" Percy asked himself aloud.

The next room showed all kinds of growth charts, data, notes taken. All of this had to do with the Girl. As if she were an animal to be studied and not a human. Percy drew his Broadsider cautiously. The people who used to operate this place seemed to be gone, but he couldn't take chances.

The next room seemed to be full of Tesla Coils, so Percy hustled to the next door, obviously not interested in getting shocked to death. He came into a hallway with three doors. He started with the option on the right. It seemed to be a movie room of some kind.

Percy flipped on a projector, curious of what it might say. The date was November 5th, 1911. _Lockpick Attempt 132. _It showed the Girl trying to open a hefty door with a hairpin. The following videos were of her studying code-breaking techniques, painting a picture of the Eiffel Tower, singing, and dancing. The more he saw, the more he got angry. This was a normal teenage girl that they'd locked up in a tower... for what?

The room on the left turned out to be a film developing room. The people studying the Girl had taken countless photos of everything she did - it was a little more than creepy. He had to bust her out - this was immoral and wrong.

And then he reached the Siphon.

Tesla Coils were all over the walls, crackling with energy. Large things that looking a bit like speakers were vibrating slightly. And suddenly, Percy heard it - the Girl was singing. And this... machine was draining her energy. Was it to make electricity? Percy had no idea.

As Percy neared an elevator, he saw a sign that disturbed him - **168 Hour Quarantine is Now in Effect. **That was a LONG time. Was that why this place so damn abandoned? Percy holstered his pistol finally. He figured he was getting close to the Girl.

He rode up the elevator arriving in some sort of observation area. there was a large lever, so of course Percy cranked it without considering circumstances. These... windows, he supposed, opened up, revealing an empty bedroom. _This was how they watched her._

He left the room, coming to a board called "Specimen Tracker". The little light was on for "Dressing Room". That's where Percy needed to go.

After a short hallway he was in a very similar little observation area. He saw another switch. If the Girl really was in here, and she was changing... Percy covered his eyes with one hand and pulled the lever with the other.

After a second, he allowed himself to peek through. Thank God she was clothed.

The Girl had black hair, tied back into a messy ponytail with a blue bow. Her eyes were also blue, and were strikingly large. She wore a simple white blouse and blue skirt, along with a matching ascot. She held a picture of some kind, as if studying it.

She looked right at Percy, and he was about to yell something to here when he realized that it was one-way glass. She was looking at a mirror from her perspective. She seemingly got a paper cut and studied her finger. She then turned and ran. off.

Percy sighed. The Girl was beautiful, no question about that. Not that Percy was interested. The Girl was barely a woman, and Percy was a man getting more and more gray by the day. It was a different kind of beauty, anyway - a sort of sweet, childlike innocence.

Why were they studying her?

Percy continued down an identical hallway. "Dining Room" was indicated by the tracking device.

The Dining Room didn't really loo like one at all. The Girl turned it into an art studio of some sort. The painted canvas of the Eiffel Tower was in the corner, as well as some crude drawings of a bird. The Girl turned to the canvas with a mischievous look on her face. Percy noticed a ripple in the air.

_LIKE THE DREAM._

"Gah!" Percy cried, feeling more of the red liquid come from his nose. Was all of this due to the altitude? He doubted it. He quickly wiping it off, knowing it would freak out the Girl.

The Girl grabbed the ripple with her hands and pulled it apart. A Tear. Suddenly, Elizabeth had nice little window to Paris - but it must have been Paris from a different time. Bright lights were everywhere. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance. A cinema advertised "LA REVANCHE DU JEDI". The Girl admired the scene for a few seconds before it closed. She slumped her shoulders, and walked into the next room.

Percy tried to clear his mind. He remembered from the dream that Annabeth could only open Tears using the machine, yet the Girl could do them at will? How did that work? Oh well - he had to bring the Girl to New York, so they would have plenty of time to talk about stuff like that.

"Library" was the area she was in next. Percy noticed some sort of recording device on a chair. He hit the play button.

**"What makes the girl different? I suspect is has less to do with what she is, and rather more with what she is not. A small part of her remains from where she came. It would seem the universe does not like its peas mixed with its porridge."**

That voice... it belonged to the crazy British lady! The one with the shield, and the coin, and the rowboat. But how did those two fit into all of this? Percy thought about her words, and then realized that they made no sense to him. But that was par for the course in Columbia, wasn't it?

He pulled the lever, and the room was revealed to him. The Library was a lot bigger than the other rooms he'd observed, by a lot. It was two storied - the lower level had books, while there was a HUGE window on the top level. The Girl was looking out of it, twirling her ponytail with her fingers as if she was bored. She was singing something - it sounded a bit like "Would the Circle be Unbroken".

This was his chance. He needed to find a way into the that room. He went through another hallway, and then found a wheel-locked door. Percy spun it, pushing it open, realizing with alarm that it went outside. A maintenance ramp of some kind.

Seeing as he was so high up, the wind was deadly and it was freezing. Percy latched onto the banister, walking up stairs slowly and deliberately, keeping his footing. He didn't even realize he was climbing on the side of the Angel of Columbia's head until later.

He finally reentered the building, and arrived at some sort of circular room with gold flooring. Odd. As he walked across it, he felt some chains snap. OF COURSE.

Percy fell, realizing that it was directly above the Library. Not wanting to fall two stories, he desperately grabbed for the edge of the viewing area. He grabbed on, and tried to hoist himself up.

He almost succeeded, but he'd forgotten the Girl was right there. As he was nearly up, he saw her staring down at him with her eyes like dinner plates. Percy tried to play it cool.

"Uh... hello."

The Girl screamed, jumping in the air in fright. This startled Percy so much that he fell to the first floor with a crunch. Percy groaned in pain, and looked up to see the Girl throwing a book at him. It hit him square in the forehead.

"Hey! Knock it off!" The Girl took aim again and fired, but this book missed to the right. "Will you stop it! WILL YOU STOP IT!" Percy held up his hand in surrender. The Girl grabbed another book off of a pile and ran up to him, poised to attack with literature.

Percy rose to his feet. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

"Who are you?" The Girl demanded.

"I'm a friend." Percy reached out to try and touch her shoulder. A bad move.

"Get away!" She tried to hit Percy with the book, but he blocked it with ease. After trying again, she panted, as if she were tired.

The Girl seemed to switch personalities in an instant. She dropped the book, and stuck her right hand out as if to feel his face. Percy noticed that her right pinkie was severed at the bottle knuckle. She wore a thimble over it. "Are you real?" She asked. Her eyes were filled with wonder. Her fingers grazed his cheek.

Percy sighed. "I'm real enough, miss. Now, we should-"

A high pitched whistle interrupted him, the sound making his head protest in pain. The Girl's eyes widened in panic. She pointed wordlessly to a golden statue.

So the statue was making that noise?

"No, wait!" The Girl cried to no one in particular. "I'm getting dressed!" Percy scratched his head in confusion, realizing that she was talking to the statue. Sure, why not?

She looked back at him, apologetically. The whistling began to die down. "I'm sorry. He's very possessive."

"Who's possessive? Your father?" Percy had deduced that this was Comstock's kid after all the Lamb talk. Or she was just some girl who Comstock had taken. Either or.

She snorted dismissively. She hugged her body with her arms tightly. "Ha. I wish. I don't have parents," she replied, her voice a bit shaky. Percy felt his heart soften a bit - he could relate.

"I know that feeling. I never knew my real father growing up." The two strangers stood in silence for a few seconds before the Girl finally made eye contact.

"You never told me your name," she said softly.

"I'm sorry. I'm Percy Jackson." Percy stuck out his hand to shake. The Girl took it shyly.

"And I'm... Elizabeth." Finally Percy had a name for her.

Percy darted around in his pockets, and finally drew out a key. Elizabeth's eyes light up. "I'm here to bust you out of this place."

"Oh my god!" Elizabeth grabbed the key out of Percy's hand, and examined it. She looked to the large door in the corner of the room. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson! Let's go!"

Suddenly, a loud screech was heard. Like, the kind that deafen people. Percy grabbed his ears in pain, while Elizabeth freaked out. "He's coming! He's coming! He's coming! _He's coming!"_

"Elizabeth! Who's coming!"

"Songbird!"

A loud crash sounded, as one of the library walls was knocked out.

SCREECH.

A huge yellow orb filled the hole, with what seemed to be a leather beak accompanying it. The orb changed to red with a satisfying click. Percy gaped.

"We'll have to get to know each other later! For now, let's get the hell out of here!" Percy ordered, roughly grabbing the key from her, and opening the huge door. "Why can we open it from the INSIDE?" He wondered aloud.

"I doubt the people who built this thought that men would crash through my ceiling! Now let's go!"

A set of stairs led down. The two hustled down the stairs side by side. "It's his job to keep me locked up in here!" She cried, in response to Percy's unasked question.

The tower shook violently as Songbird crashed into it, trying to find them. They jumped over rubble and continued down a hallway. "Why did you come for me?!"

"Can we answer questions when there ISN'T a giant bird trying to murder us?!"

Elizabeth dodged some falling debris. "Okay!"

Songbird once again struck the tower, this time creating a claw mark in the wall. Elizabeth was thrown backwards. Percy rushed to help her up. "Can you walk?!"

"I'll be fine, let's move!"

Percy realized they were approaching the elevator that led down into the Siphon area. Elizabeth had gained a bit of ground in him and now led the duo. "Call the elevator!" He ordered.

"What?"

"Press the damn button!"

Elizabeth obliged, pressing the red marker for down. Percy realized that this was the first observation room - the one of her bedroom. "What is all this... they were watching me? All this time... WHY?"

Percy sighed. "I'm sorry, I-"

She turned to Percy in tears. "Why did they put me in here. What am I? WHAT AM I?!"

"The girl who is getting out of this damned tower!"

As if on cue, the elevator doors were punched down. Songbird's red eyes were glowing through the frame. of what used to be an elevator. CRAP. The monster bashed it's body against the walls of the small room, trying to destroy it. And he almost did. But thank god for elevators!

It came flying down and crashed into Songbird, presumably sending down to the bottom of the tower. Percy looked out the massive hole made by the winged beast when he saw a crashed metal bar. It led to another platform. "This is the only way through, Elizabeth! We have to go!"

The younger girl shivered. "Okay!"

A few more flights of stairs. Percy panted up them, feeling his age. Elizabeth had surged ahead and was struggling with a wheel-locked down. Great. More outside stuff. "I'll get it!" Percy took the wheel from Percy and cranked it, opening up to the outside.

Elizabeth was the first one through. "Which way?"

"I have no idea!"

"Up it is, then!"

After a long spiral staircase and nearly dying a few times, they reached the very tip top of the tower. Then Songbird came along and ruined the view. He crashed into the head, causing it to lurch violently. Elizabeth and Percy both were tossed over the top.

Elizabeth screamed in terror and reached for Percy's hand, which she grabbed firmly. She struggled a bit more as they free-fell, until she was in a sort of hugging position, chest to chest. She gripped him with vigor. "Hold on, Elizabeth!"

Percy pulled out his Skyhook. He saw a passing Skyrail to his right, which he pointed at. Soon, they were zipping along the rail.

"Don't look down, don't look down..." Elizabeth muttered into Percy's shirt. He held onto her with his right arm.

"Alright, Elizabeth. I don't see Songbird." Percy's heart was still racing, and he could feel that Elizabeth's was too.

Elizabeth sobbed into Percy's vest. "He'll come back. He's never going to stop."

SCREECH!

"Goddammit."

Percy increased the acceleration. He didn't know where this Skyrail was taking them, but anywhere was better than this. As they rode by, Percy saw the Angel of Columbia begin to fracture, as the entire left side of her face fell off. Elizabeth didn't see it, and Percy was glad that she didn't for her sake.

Suddenly, the rail took them downwards, and they began to ride faster and faster. Then the left side of the Angel crashed into the track, knocking it out. "Oh crap. Elizabeth, DO NOT LET GO OF ME!"

They fell of the Skyrail, and began to plummet. Percy dropped his Skyhook and wrapped the other arm around Elizabeth. This was it, then. After a day of shooting dudes, he would be killed by a damn bird.

Water soon sparkled into view beneath them. But that was WAY too fast for 20,000 feet.

Percy spun himself towards the impact, miraculously, neither of them seemed to be dead after that fall. A large piece of debris struck Percy in the head - and then he saw Songbird try to come after him, even in the water. That must've been a hallucination.

Then he passed out.

* * *

Percy was back in his office... _what the hell..._

He was leaned back, with his feet on the desk. There was nothing littering the workspace this time. Percy saw himself look down at a picture of a woman. The Annabeth woman.

_SHE DIED GIVING BIRTH._

That memory coming back to him punched Percy in the gut. Annabeth used to be his girlfriend. It was the year 1893. She died giving birth to their child.

But Percy DIDN'T HAVE A CHILD. Surely if he did... he would... remember...

He looked at the picture again. The black and white snapshot had been taken before she'd become pregnant. Just when they'd arrived in this apartment. Percy felt a tear on his cheek. He loved Annabeth. A lot. It was hard to deal with when she died.

He remembered now. He had his Pinkerton job. He'd joined them as soon as he moved in with Annabeth in the apartment. They needed income. But he didn't have any skills other than fighting. So when Annabeth died it was hard making a living.

He was on the verge of remembering something important... but he couldn't place it...

* * *

"Anna... Annaaaaaa!"

He looked up to see Elizabeth over him, who was looking intently at his forehead.

"No, it's me. Elizabeth."

"What... where..."

She smiled down at him. It's sincerity pierced Percy's heart with warmth. "We're in Battleship Bay. It's a beach in Columbia."

"How did we..."

"We fell into the water. Somehow we survived. A rock hit your head, and you began to sink. It was the least I could do to get you back in the land of the living." Her eyes were full of adoration. "You saved me, Mr. Jackson. You got me out of the tower."

Percy smiled weakly. "Yeah." His head felt like it was full of water. He couldn't think clearly.

"Here, let me help you up." Elizabeth grabbed his hand and pulled him into a sitting position. "There you go."

Percy's vision throbbed. "God... that hit on the head did me no favors."

"I'll try to find something that can help you out." Elizabeth got up, and then heard something in the distance. Percy heard it too - music. Her eyes were filled with excitement.

"Go on. Have fun. I'll be fine."

Elizabeth looked down at him. "Okay! I-I won't be long, Mr. Jackson!"

Percy sighed. He was probably the worst ever at protecting people, but he didn't care. The poor girl had been trapped in a tower for years. She could have fun for awhile if she wanted to.


	6. Six: A Relaxing Stay at Battleship Bay

_**********CHAPTER UPDATE 2/8/14: I didn't actually change anything in the story, but I want to throw in this extra little Author's Note.**_

_**********I want to know if this story is worth continuing for me. I'm putting a lot of my time into this, and not that many people seem to be reading it. So, would you kindly drop a review telling me that you ARE enjoying this and want this to continue? Comments like that always motivate me.**_

* * *

**Author's Note: Percy and Elizabeth are going to be a lot closer than Booker and Elizabeth, for a few reasons. 1) Percy isn't as much of an asshat as Booker (though he is still an asshat). 2) I think that Elizabeth should be a little less naive about certain things. She wouldn't just follow Percy for no reason, like she does with Booker. So Percy has to actually get to know her. 3) I don't think Percy could earnestly lie to Elizabeth. So that's gone.'**

******Elizabeth is a great character who doesn't get enough dialogue with Booker. I'll be filling all of their awkward silences with small conversations. So hooray.**

**And, NO. They are not going to be together. That's nauseating.**

**Also: I'm changing the money system. money now has the relatively value it had back in 1912. For comparison, $11 in 1912 would equal around $250 in modern times. And since the Silver Eagle is a dollar coin, the money system makes very little sense. So I'm changing it to one more based on cents. Silver Eagles are now actually valuable. Pennies will be the most common currency.**

* * *

_The Prophet may know how his own biography's going to end - but I can scarcely fathom how I'm going to start it. Other than that kid's stuff you get at the Hall of Heroes, anything prior to his baptism was, and here I quote, "left on the riverside." They'll call me a plagiarist, but I'm going to spend the first 30 pages regurgitating scripture._

-Ed Gaines, March 6th, 1912

* * *

After a few minutes, Percy slowly rose to his feet. He was supposed to be protecting Elizabeth, and he'd let her run off to... somewhere. Now he had to find her again.

He scanned the little artificial beach. People were out sunbathing, the children were building sandcastles - it almost felt like a real ocean. Except that the water dropped off the edge and into who-knows-what at a pretty close distant. Also, it wasn't exactly hot. But nowhere in Columbia wasn't a little chilly. Side effect of being nearly 20,000 feet in the air.

Percy scanned his surroundings. None of the beach patrons seemed to care that two people had washed up on a beach - either that or Elizabeth had already talked them away. For that reason, Percy avoided asking any of these strangers about her.

His guns were gone - though he didn't exactly need them. The people here had no idea that Percy was the False Shepard, or that Elizabeth was the Lamb. Besides, he also had Undertow in case things got bad. He really hoped they wouldn't.

Percy almost wanted to enjoy the sights of the city, but he knew it was all a veneer for the common person. Make a city seem like Heaven, and have it rampant with racism. Comstock said he was God's mirror, and yet he ordered a child to light himself on fire. So it goes. The sky was orange, so that made it, what, six o'clock? He had to keep moving before it got dark.

The dancing music was in earshot. Percy followed it through a doorway into a small building when he noticed something on the wall. **PRESIDENT COMSTOCK'S PERSONAL AIRSHIP! AT THE FIRST LADY'S AERODROME. **The picture showed a large zeppelin - one big enough to get to New York, for sure. That might be the new target.

The beach was apparently split in half by this seemingly pointless structure. Percy mentally shrugged, not wanting to question it. He did, however, see the source the music - a dancing area on a pier extended into the water. Percy saw a bunch of people in pairs dancing, but Elizabeth was alone.

He approached the scene with a slight smirk on his face. She was having the purest kind of fun - laughing wildly, spinning. It was almost a shame to stop her. He sighed. He needed to get back to New York, and... repay his debts.

When he finally reached the end of the pier, he tried calling out to her. "Uh... hey miss!"

Elizabeth didn't notice him.

"Elizabeth!"

She looked over at the man and smiled, breaking her dance and rushing over to him. "Oh, this is wonderful! Come dance with me, Mr. Jackson!"

"I don't dance."

"Oh, come on! What could be better than this!" Elizabeth grabbed Percy's hands.

She seemed insistent, and it would be easy enough to humor her. Convincing her to follow him to New York would be a hell of a lot easier if she was compliant, and Percy didn't have to drag her kicking and screaming. Besides, could he really say no to her after all she'd been though?

Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes huge and expectant. "Well?"

He sighed. "Oh, alright."

If possible, she smiled wider. The people around the two had stopped dancing, and were clapping along to the cheery beat. They formed a ring around the two. Of course. Now his embarrassment could be witnessed by everyone.

"Come on, Mr. Jackson!"

The entire time he felt as stiff as a board. His head was still hurting, although less so than before. But it was hard not to be exciting and happy, with Elizabeth having the time of her life. They were spinning in the middle together, while the people on the outside cheered. Percy had a hard time remembering the last time he had danced, but he was glad he decided to do this. Elizabeth was laughing happily. Percy wondered if he could ever feel like that again, her warm hands reminding her of better times. This made him feel awkward and embarrassed.

The little ring ended, much to Percy's disappointment. The music got slower, and the pairs began to group up again. Elizabeth grew Percy close to her, clearly expecting them to continue. She waited for Percy to wrap his arm around her waist.

Yeah... this was where Percy drew the line. "We should go, Elizabeth."

She gave him a funny look. "Why? What could be better than this?"

"We should just go. Come on."

Elizabeth sighed. "Alright. I suppose we ought to get to know each other, and then you can tell me what we're going to do."

Percy dropped his hands, taking the lead. Did he really know where he was going? No.

"Can you smell that? Oh… I've never smelled anything like that before! Have you?" Elizabeth asked excitedly.

Percy frowned at the artificial smell. He loved the ocean – he remembered. "Beaches I know don't smell much like this."

"It's a bunch of rain-catchers of pumps, so I guess it would smell different." Elizabeth took a deep breath, just to enjoy the smell. It was mostly candy and popcorn mixed in with a bit of perfume. Not horrible, just not like a beach. "So you're from the ground, then? Not Columbia?"

"Yeah, I'm from New York. Manhattan." Percy said without a break. He knew that from heart. No question.

"Hmm... I didn't know they had beaches in New York."

"Long Island. The Montauk beaches are amazing, on the northern side of the island." Another shard of memory hit Percy - time spent with his mother at an old cabin on the beaches.

"That sounds nice. What did it smell like?" Elizabeth wasn't just asking questions just to appease Percy - she seemed to be legitimately interested.

Percy closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Long Island Sound always smelled like seaweed. The air smelled like saltwater, always. It was always cold - the air and the water. It was just..." Percy struggled for words.

"Sounds like a charming place." Elizabeth glanced at a few kids making a sand castle. "So... I get the feeling, Mr. Jackson-"

"Percy."

"What?"

"My, uh, name. Call me Percy."

"Okay... Percy... I don't think you just busted me out of that tower on charity alone. So what's your motive?" Her eyes still held the same innocence as before, which was odd for such a serious question. Great... now what was Percy going to say..._  
_

How could he lie to her? She was too damn adorable, like a stray puppy. "I..." Percy balked, unsure of how to put this. "Okay. I'm going to be honest. Elizabeth... I... don't remember exactly."

"You... don't remember? Is it because you hit your head?"

"No. I... it's strange, I... before Columbia, things are fuzzy. All I know is that I was supposed to get you and bring you to New York."

"Oh." Elizabeth stopped and looked at her boots. "And then what?"

Percy scratched his weak facial hair. "Someone will meet us there, I bet. I'm... I'm sorry. I should have told you before."

"No. That's... okay, Mr. Jackson. Err, Percy. I'll come with you."

Percy nodded back at her, smiling. "Sounds like a deal." He looked up at the boardwalk. "Now, let's see if we can find a way off this beach..."

"Percy! Percy, over here!" Elizabeth was suddenly down near the waves, skipping stones. Percy hustled over to her, with a smile.

* * *

After wandering around the beach for awhile, the two had finally decided to head up to the boardwalk. They entered a small shop, selling Columbian trinkets. Elizabeth examined a poster of Father Comstock with a nervous eye.

"Father Comstock. I read all about him in my books! They said he can see the future."

Percy snorted at the propaganda. "Give a man power, and he falls in all kinds of love with himself."

Elizabeth shivered. "I don't like his look."

The shopkeeper glanced over, and in an intensely creepy voice, said "Do you dislike the look of the Prophet... or his gaze?"

Elizabeth gave Percy a frightened look. "Can we leave now?"

"Of course."

After another short walk, the two finally emerged onto the sun-washed boardwalk. It was at least seven in the afternoon now. Percy yawned. It had been a LONG day.

Elizabeth stopped to examine the small shops selling candies or dolls. She'd found a few cents lying around, and bought herself a caramel. Looking pleased, she led the way to the end of the shops, where Percy saw two familiar faces.

"Percy, here!"

Elizabeth pointed the two British twins, who stood proudly bearing cushions. Each held a piece of jewelry in a box.

"Bird?" The man opened with.

"...or the Cage?" The woman finished.

"Or perhaps the bird!"

"Nothing beats the cage."

Percy realized that the two were competing. He noticed the striking resemblance between both the appearance and voice of the woman and that of Rosalind Lutece. Could it be?... but then who was the man?

"These two again... how did you?... Nevermind." Percy said in defeat after receiving smug looks from both of them.

Elizabeth turned to Percy excitedly, with each case in hand. "Look at these, they're amazing! Which one do you like more? This one? Or this?!" The pieces of jewelry in question seemed to be brooches - one depicting a bird, the other a cage. "The bird is beautiful, and the cage is somber but there's... something special about it."

Percy blanked. "I don't know. You're asking the wrong man."

"Oh, come on! I just can't decide!"

He squinted at both. "Eh... go with the bird?"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Elizabeth put both cases back and excitedly put the brooch on her choker necklace. "I love it!"

"Surprising. I expected the cage," The woman said, disappointed.

"If you're going to be a sore loser, then I shan't do this again." The man replied, repressing a laugh.

The younger girl turned to Percy and showed off her new jewelry. "It looks great, miss. Now, what do I owe you-" Percy turned to look at the two twins. They had disappeared. Of course.

"So, Mr. Jackson, you never told me where we're going." Elizabeth was touching her brooch subconsciously.

"Oh, right. Well, there's an airship called the First Lady. We're going to take her to New York."

Elizabeth once again looked down. "Okay."

"Is something wrong?"

"It's just... the place I always dreamed of going was Paris. But I guess I can still go there someday, right? I could take a boat from New York, after all. I'm... I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. I probably sound ungrateful."

"No, you don't. I understand. And... Percy, please. If you don't mind."

"Oh, I forgot! Sorry."

The two walked in silence until they arrived to an entrance line of some kind. "'The Arcade'." Percy muttered to himself.

"Make sure you have a piece of photographic identification for presentation," The man running the ticket line called out. Off to the side, a worker was patting down the people entering.

"Well, we aren't getting through there."

"Come on, I think I see a way." Percy and Elizabeth wormed their way through the crowd, and they arrived at a door.

"It's locked. Dammit." Percy kicked the lock in frustration.

Elizabeth approached, peered over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking, and then pulled out a hairpin. "What are you doing?"

She scoffed. "Percy, you're a roguish type! What does it look like?" The lock popped off, and she pushed open the door. "Done."

"Now, tell me; where did you learn to do that?" Percy asked once he shut the door.

"Songbird brought me random books. He can't exactly read, so he just... grabbed them. You would be surprised what I could do."

Percy scratched his head as they continued along a maintenance hallway. "How did you know how to swim? That's what confused me."

Elizabeth's face grew red. "Uh... I heard a few books about it. And my bath in the tower was pretty big, so I... practiced a bit?"

"Ah. I see." Percy stepped over a pile of spilled papers. "So what was it like living in the tower? Did you like it?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Yes... for awhile. I never really had parents. You're actually the first person I've talked to in my life."

Percy let that revelation wash over him. "Well, your a good talker, then. Already a better conversationalist after a few hours than me. And it's only been thirty-eight years of practice."

"You're thirty-eight? You don't look it."

Percy chuckled. "I feel it, that's for damn sure." A small silence fell between the two of them. "So how old are you?"

"I turned nineteen just five months ago." She said, sounding proud of her being "old".

Percy tried to remember to back when he was nineteen... but for some reason he couldn't. Ah well. "Well, that age difference does do us some good."

"What?"

"I can say you're my niece or something, so we don't get any... bad looks."

Elizabeth frowned. "I don't get it. Why would we attract bad looks? We're just people traveling."

This girl may have been smart, but she was naive. Percy had to remember that. "A grown man with a girl who could pass as sixteen or seventeen? Not good."

"But why? I don't get it."

Percy mentally facepalmed. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

"Uh... sure. But do you really think I could pass as your niece?"

A shrug came as reply. "Why not? Our hair is around the same color. And eyes... well, we'll manage."

"Alright."

They finally emerged into the Arcade, which was full of small little puppet boxes displaying "Duke & Dimwit", which just seemed to be a way for the government types to indoctrinate the children. Lovely. Elizabeth managed to get her hands on a cotton candy sample, which she ate with vigor. She seemed to love the stuff.

Signs around the place pointed upstairs as the way to get near the First Lady airship. Percy led the way while Elizabeth hung in the back, enjoying the candy. They arrived at an entrance turnstile, where a woman in a black uniform of some kind was standing. Her eyes lit up when Percy and Elizabeth entered her field of view.

She turned to Elizabeth with a smile. "Annabeth?"

_WHAT?_

"Excuse me?"

"Annabeth, it's me, Esther!"

Elizabeth went red in the face. Her lack of social interaction really wasn't good. "She's not Annabeth." He said for her. _My girlfriend's name was Annabeth._

Percy's companion regained her composure. "My name is Elizabeth. Do I know you?"

Esther smiled. "Elizabeth! Well, isn't that a pretty name." She walked through the turnstile.

Elizabeth turned to Percy. "That was- Percy, your nose is bleeding!"

"Crap..." Percy wiped it off with his sleeve curtly. "I was just... surprised, that's all."

"Why?"

"My girlfriend's name was Annabeth years ago."

"Oh. Did you break up or something?"

Percy sighed. "Yeah. Something like that." He couldn't tell her that story just yet. It felt a bit too close to home.

"Sorry for prying, Percy." They went through the turnstile, and then proceeded up the stairs. Towards the ticket booth. "That was... odd, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It was really odd." Percy commented back.

Percy rung the bell at the ticket booth. "Two tickets for passage to the First Lady airship?" He set his right hand on the counter, totally forgetting that it marked him as the False Shepard.

"Just a minute friend." The man behind the counter said gruffly, before muttering into a telephone.

"We're in a bit of a rush, pal."

Behind Percy, he heard Elizabeth say something about mustard. He ignored it, as he was now thoroughly suspicious in regards to the man behind the counter. He continued to mutter into his phone. Percy heard "package is in hand".

_I don't like this._

Those years of Pinkerton training told him that everything about this wasn't good. But Percy didn't have a gun. "Excuse me, sir, but can we get our tickets?"

The man turned to him. "Certainly sir. Sorry for the WAIT!" On what, he plunged a knife into Percy's right hand. Percy screamed in pain. He whipped around to see the scene behind him.

A man grabbed Elizabeth roughly, but Elizabeth got in a kick to the family jewels. Percy turned back to see the pool of blood trickle out from him impaled hand. Whimpering in pain, he pulled the knife out and dove behind a pillar, right next to Elizabeth.

"Are you alright?" He demanded.

"Yes, I'm fine!" The various people around the room had all pulled weapons. An ambush from the police. Excellent. Elizabeth saw Percy's hand and gasped. "Percy, your-"

"I know!" Percy grabbed an errant Broadsider on the ground with his injured hand. He didn't want to scare Elizabeth with his vigors just yet. He yelped in pain as the metal pressed up against his hand.

"Percy what are you doing?!" Elizabeth asked, as Percy fired the gun. It popped right into a fiddle player's neck. He dropped dead. Percy's companion screamed and ran. "You get away from me, Mr. Jackson!"

"Elizabeth! Come on!" Percy cursed. He steeled his nerves and fired again, ignoring the blood that gushed from his hand.

* * *

Percy fought through nearly twenty police officers by the time he was done. He had used vigors, shotguns, rifles - whatever he could scavenge on the floor. Or, and his hand was still bleeding, after twenty minutes. His entire hand was stained red.

And Elizabeth had accused Percy of being a murderer and had run off. To... somewhere. Percy wasn't sure. He had to find her and calm her down.

He slid the Broadsider into his holster, vowing to never lose it. He then sprinted for the outside, where he heard a woman struggling. "ELIZABETH!"

"Stay away, Mr. Jackson!"

Percy's heart practically ripped in two. "Oh, come on!"

He boarded the second gondola to find Elizabeth struggling with the gondola lever. She wasn't strong enough to pull it. She looked back, saw Percy, and then let go of the lever before going over to the window.

"Elizabeth, come on!" Percy pulled the lever. "Talk to me!"

The young girl continued to stare out the window as she addressed Percy. "You killed those people! I... I can't believe you did that! I thought you were a decent man!" She turned to me with anger in her eyes. "You _killed _those people!"

Percy sighed. "Elizabeth, I-"

She gave him a shove. "You're a monster!" After she did it, she burst out in silent tears, going back to the window.

Percy followed her. He felt bad for her - she'd finally seen what the real world looked like. But she needed to see reason on this one. He reached out and touched her shoulder with his non-bloody hand. "I'm sorry. I hate killing people about as much as you do. But what did you think was going to happen?"

"What?" She asked through sobs.

"Those people aren't just about to let you and I walk away. They spent _so much _just to put you in there. Those people will kill for you. You and I won't be safe until we are _far _away from here."

Elizabeth finally turned to Percy. She'd collected herself fast. "What do they want from me?" She asked in a soft voice.

"I don't know. But from now on..." Percy displayed his bloody hand. "I'm drawing first. Next time, I don't think I'll be able to draw at all if I don't."

Tears began to well up in Elizabeth's eyes. "Why? Why does it have to be like this?"

"Why does Comstock hate colored people? Why is there a floating city in the sky? It just is. If we dwell on it, then we'll go crazy. The sooner we can get out of this damn city, the better."

Elizabeth's eyes focused on Percy's hand. "By God, you need help!" She began to look around the room to see if she could find a First Aid Kit. She did, and she instructed Percy to sit at the table in the corner. She poured some kind of solution on it, which hurt like hell. Percy howled.

"Oh hush. It'll help you." She did her best to clean up the blood around the hand, getting most of the stains off. "Great, now I just need to find a bandage..." She began to paw through the bag.

Percy looked at his hand for the first real time. The slit in his palm was a bit much to see. He averted his eyes. "How do you know how to do this?"

"Darn, what kind of medical kit doesn't have bandages?" Elizabeth muttered to herself. Percy noticed that the gondola had stopped moving. They must've made it. "I read some books. This is a little more advanced than I've read about."

"Was that supposed to be reassuring?!" Percy asked.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She tore a piece of fabric off of her skirt, and wrapped around his hand tightly. Percy winced. "So... that wasn't the last of it, was it?" Elizabeth asked.

"No. I doubt it." Percy deadpanned. Elizabeth tied off the bandage, leaving Percy with a blue bandage made of linen.

"Better?" Elizabeth asked.

Percy flexed his hand into a fist. His muscles still screamed "NO" but he would have to power through it. "Much better. Thank you, Elizabeth."

"It was nothing. And... I'm sorry that I called you a monster. That wasn't fair. You're... you're a good man, Mr. Jackson. I mean, Percy."

Percy chuckled, wondering how many people he'd killed in "self-defense" today. "That might be stretching it a bit far. Now, it's getting late, and I'm tired. We have money. I say we find a hotel to stay at."

"That sounds fine to me, Percy."


	7. Seven: The Advantages of a Cage

_Days at Comstock House was simple. Hard work, sure- but simple. Wringin' the linens, scrubbing the floors...Lady Comstock, she even had a kind word, now and then. Almost enough to make me think I had a place in their world. God made foolish girls so HE could have something to play with._

-Daisy Fitzroy, February 12th, 1912

* * *

The duo stepped out of the gondola and examined the scene. Elizabeth pointed upwards. "Soldier's Field - For Pint-Sized Patriots." She read, smoothing out her ascot. "Is this where we're going to find that airship?"

"Yep. It has to be."

"Well... then we should get inside, right?"

After a quick push through the turnstiles, the eerily-abandoned welcome area was seen. A giant mechanical eagle was in the center of the atrium, with four metal boys on tracks circling him. Music about "keeping the foreign hordes from our shores" was playing from the display. Percy clenched his fists.

"Why does the city show stuff like this?" Elizabeth asked Percy. She seemed to be as disturbed by it as Percy was.

"It's all about getting the common man to believe Comstock's lies. Don't think about it too much." Percy said, as he rummaged through the contents of a crate, looking for ammo. He found nothing useful. "I'm surprised the books in your tower don't have you brainwashed."

"Why is that?"

Percy bit his lip. Now might not have been the best of times to tell Elizabeth who exactly her father was. "A lot of folks believe it. White Man's Burden, and all that."

"Do you?"

"No."

"That's... that's good."

They found an impressive floating display in a side room, showcasing the extensive design of the little boardwalk area. "Soldier's Field, built in 1903 by the hand of our Prophet." Elizabeth quoted off of the plaque.

"What interest does Comstock have in a bunch of carnies and carousels? It doesn't seem like his thing." Percy wondered aloud.

"I read about this place in my books. It's supposed to acquaint children with national service. The military."

The older man whistled. "That's low, even for the 'great' Prophet."

Elizabeth got a far off look in her sapphire eyes. "'Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it.' It makes sense from his perspective."

"I suppose it does." Percy replied. He reached out to the model to touch it. He realized that the little airships and buildings were floating in the air. Like the city itself. Whoa, that was meta as hell. "Did you write that? That quote, I mean."

"No. It's from Proverbs 22:6."

They came to a gate, which seemed to have some strange kind of power conduit next to it. It had some sort of spinning crystal on the inside of it. Elizabeth approached it curiously. "What is-" The thing suddenly made a loud noise and exploded, causing the girl to gasp in surprise. The gate also shut downwards, closing their means of exit.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I'm fine." She merely seemed a little startled. "But the gate is shut up tight. Now how are we going to get to that airship?"

Percy studied it. There was a spot near the bottom for someone to lift it up should need be. He looked down at his now-crippled hand. "You're going to need to help me, but I think we can lift it by hand."

"Percy, I'm not much in the strength category."

"Anything is better than nothing, and with my hand being like it is we're at a disadvantage. Now, come on."

After the two struggled at the gate for nearly a minute, it finally opened enough for them to get through. "Shock Jockey - who needs the power company." Percy read off the poster nearby.

"It doesn't seem to work very well." Elizabeth noted as she tried to catch her breath. She scanned the area. "Why do you think this is abandoned?"

"Half the city's gotta be in lockdown by now. With the Angel of Columbia destroyed, and some guy running around killing guys... in, uh, self defense." Percy added in that last bit due to a sour look from Elizabeth. "Look, we just need to be careful. I'm sure that Comstock told all the policemen in the city your name - that's how we were ambushed earlier in the ticket station. You told that Esther woman your name."

"Oh. So... that was my fault?"

Percy immediately regretted putting it like that. "No. It was going to happen anyways, probably. Just... tell them some other name, got it?"

"Yes, Percy."

He nodded at her obedience, before the two walked out onto the main street area. This place actually had people in it. "So what about you? Are you going to need a new name?"

Percy thought about it for a few seconds. "They either think that the False Shepard is a mulatto dwarf or a one-eyed Frenchman - don't you laugh, I overheard it on the PA system - so I should be okay from a distance. But Comstock did know my name... whatever, we'll think of something later. For now? I'm starving."

* * *

"You're telling me that you've never eaten ice cream before?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Damn right it is! Now, come on."

Percy led the way into the ice cream parlor. It was right next to the entrance, and when Elizabeth had remarked offhand that she'd never tasted ice cream, it had thrown him for a loop. What kid never had ice cream? The kid who was trapped in a tower by her father, Percy supposed.

"What kind of food did you eat in there, anyway? Was it all food dispensers? Or..."

"My cabinets just kept refilling. I never really thought of it, to be honest. I guess I should have."

Percy thought about that for awhile, studying his accomplice out of the corner of his eye. "Did anyone ever take care of you? Even when you were young?"

Elizabeth's eyes were closed, as if trying to remember. "I don't think so. Anything before I was six is hazy, and I don't remember ever having having anyone but me after that. Is that normal for kids?"

Percy chuckled, but then realized it was kind of distasteful, considering the subject matter. "Erm, no, it isn't. Kids can't live on their own until they're eighteen."

"Eighteen? That old?! That's silly."

The older man felt compelled to tell her about things like tax or mortgage or other such things, but he didn't. They entered the Duke & Dimwit Ice Cream Shoppe, to find that is was full of small children happily eating ice cream, while their parents talked nervously about all the chaos. Elizabeth rushed excitedly to the counter, looking at the ice cream.

"Hello there, young miss," the store clerk said curtly, "What would you like?"

"I'm buying." Percy said. He examined the counter, noting the five flavors - vanilla bean, chocolate, strawberry, raspberry, and pistachio. "I'll have vanilla. How about you?"

"Uhh... strawberry?"

"Six cents, my good man." The clerk said cheerfully, beginning to scoop to dessert. Percy set the pennies on the counter, as the man handed Elizabeth the two cones. "You're lucky to have such a nice courtier, young lady."

Elizabeth, bless her soul, turned a deep shade of red and stared at her feet and stared at the floor, babbling about how they weren't a couple. Percy rolled his eyes. "She's my niece, friend. And she's half my damn age."

"Oh. My apologies, sir." The clerk said quickly, clearly embarrassed. Percy sighed, accepting his ice cream cone from his traveling partner.

"No problem. Can you tell me where the nearest hotel is?"

"Well, there's the Patriot's Post, just up the block. It's pretty full this time of year, but you might be able to find a room."

Percy thanked him, and then turned to see that Elizabeth had found a table near the window. She looked at her ice cream curiously, as if unsure how to eat it. "You lick it." He instructed, and then began to work on his own. Elizabeth followed, and began to eat.

She looked at him with the pink residue around her mouth. Percy had to suppress a laugh. "So, Percy, is... there a woman in your life?"

Percy was taken aback by the boldness of the question. "Uh, yeah. There was."

"Oh." Elizabeth licked again, clearly not wanting to make Percy angry. Yet she continued. "What happened?"

"Something." Percy said it with finality, so that she wouldn't pursue the topic further.

The girl frowned, but continued to eat her ice cream. After eating it a bit too fast, she grabbed her head in pain. "Gah! What..."

"Brain freeze. It happens when you eat cold stuff. It'll pass."

"But it REALLY HURTS..."

Percy sighed. "Like I said, just give it a minute. Put your tongue to the roof of your mouth - it'll go by faster."

After a few seconds of distressed groaning that attracted the attention of a few other parlor-goers, Elizabeth finally calmed down. "Okay... this was pretty excellent, Mr. Jackson. Just a bit dangerous. Can we get that hotel room now?"

"Yep. Let's go."

* * *

"Room for two, please. One night."

"Double or single bed?"

"Double."

The hotel manager leafed through some pages before smiling. "You're in luck. I have one double bed room remaining."

"I'll take that, then."

Elizabeth went through her pockets, only scraping together eleven cents. She handed them to Percy meekly. "Here you go. It might help?"

"The price is going to be seven dollars, sir. What name should I put it under?"

Percy glanced around, trying to think of a name. His eyes settled on a small paperback in the corner. "Uh... Booker."

Percy handed the man the money, nearly depleting him of currency. The manager handed him a key. "One floor up, end of the hallway."

The room itself was rather small, barely big enough for the two single beds. A small window overlooked the boardwalk - it would have to do if Percy and Elizabeth needed a quick getaway. It was sheer drop, but a Skyrail was around twenty meters away and slightly below the window. It would work.

The clock on the wall read that it was a little past nine o'clock. Barely late at all, and the sun was still out, but Percy flopped on the window bed, exhausted. Elizabeth sat on a chair, as if waiting for something. "What're you doing?" He asked through closed eyes.

"I'm not tired."

"How can you not be tired? You escaped your tower, saw the real world, and had people shoot at you, and you aren't a bit tired?"

"No."

Percy chuckled. "I keep forgetting you're a kid. I'm an old man, Liz. In one day, I went from lighthouse on the surface, to Columbia. In between that and when we met, the police found me. I had to fight my way to you. So yeah, I'm a bit tired."

Elizabeth stood up went to go sit on her bed, looking intently at the man. "Liz? Is that a nickname?"

"I suppose it is."

She cleared her throat. "So, uh, a man on the street asked me something on the way here."

"I didn't notice that."

"You were booking the hotel room."

"Oh. What did the man ask you?"

Elizabeth asked super loudly and awkwardly, "Percy, what's sex?"

The older man groaned, rubbing his face. "You tell that person _no. _And I'll tell you what it means later, when I'm not exhausted. My god, you were sheltered, weren't you. This should have been something your parents-" Percy cut himself off. Best not wander down that path yet.

"Why? Is it bad?"

"For a girl like you? Absolutely. Like I said, we'll talk about it later."

"Okay." She locked eyes with Percy. "When you said early that you had to fight your way to me... do you kill a lot of people, Percy?" Her eyes were wide as dinner plates.

He sighed, turning to her. "I used to be a Pinkerton. I'm a Private Eye now. And... I was in the army, awhile back. So, I guess so."

"Why?" The girl could have been a detective herself, with all these questions.

"It's my job."

"But you said earlier that you don't enjoy it. Why would you make it your job?"

Percy struggled to remember, but... "I... wasn't good at anything else but... killing. Never could go to college - I wasn't cut out for it. But the Pinks paid well enough."

"You still could still have done something else! I mean... in my books, I read about firefighters and policemen and such. You could've helped people."

The older man looked the girl in the eyes, his sea green eyes piercing hers. "Why? So I can meet more decent people, so I can watch more of them die?" Words began to flow out of Percy now, though he wasn't sure where exactly he was drawing his memories. "Twenty-one years ago, I saw my friends Piper and Leo die in order to save me. Nineteen years ago, I saw my girlfriend die giving birth. It's hard to believe that anything's worth saving."

Who was Piper and Leo? He couldn't exactly remember.

Elizabeth looked down, unsure of what to say. A tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry for your losses, Percy, But that doesn't mean you should give up. You're a decent man, and-"

"A decent man? Do you even KNOW me, Elizabeth?"

"I know that you came and rescued me from my tower, that's pretty heroic!"

_Heroic. _The word bounced around Percy's skull without sticking. "I'm no hero."

Elizabeth glared at Percy with cloudy eyes. "Then why did you pull me out of the tower, huh? Was it on a whim?"

"It was to pay back a debt."

She froze. "So I'm collateral, is that it?"

Oh, he'd done it now. His traveling partner laid down on her bed and turned her back to Percy, sobbing rather loudly. "Elizabeth, I..."

_Goddammit, it's like I'm her father, isn't it? _Percy hoisted his sore body up from his bed, and sat on Elizabeth's bed. He awkwardly cleared his throat. How was he going to dig himself out of this one? "It started as a way to pay back debts. I'll admit that. But when I saw what they were doing to you..." Percy shuddered. "It was personal. No human being deserves what you've been through."

Elizabeth was still not talking. Percy had to continue. "I just acted like an idiot, and I know it. I don't know what came over me. You have every right to think I'm a jerk."

She continued to sob, although less so. Percy reached out to stroke her hair, hopefully in a reassuring manner. She didn't move or react to it. "If we get to New York, and the people there looking for you are even a bit dangerous looking, you won't go with them. My debts aren't as important as your safety."

It wasn't a promise just to appease the girl - he meant it.

A silence filled the room, as Elizabeth had stopped sobbing. Percy continued to calm her down, until the girl was finally snoring. He then dragged himself over to his own bed, falling asleep within minutes.

* * *

Arriving back in his past as soon as he closed his eyes was something that Percy expected. So when he found himself as a ghostly figure in his own apartment, he was wholly unsurprised.

A girl sat on a chair in the corner, reading a book about physics. _Annabeth. _She was, what - eighteen? - and she wore a simple white dress that went from neck to ankle. She was clearly uncomfortable in the attire.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and a young man walked back. Percy realized with a start that it was himself - a past version of himself that couldn't have been more than eighteen. It jarred him to see that the younger version of himself seemed so carefree and happy.

Dream-Percy wore a black suit with white pinstripes, and was anxiously tugging on his cuffs. "Do I have to wear this thing? I'd rather show up naked."

His girlfriend merely rolled his eyes. "You're interviewing with the Pinkertons, Percy - yes, of course you do. This is KIND OF important, remember?"

"What does it matter what I wear? They're looking for investigators, what does it matter what they wear, as long as they're good?"

"Professionalism, obviously. They wouldn't hire you if they knew you were as much of a slob as you actually are. You just have to pretend."

"Ha-ha." Dream-Percy snatched a piece of paper off of a desk. "If you think you're so much better than I am, why don't you interview? I'm sure they'd love a dress-wearing demigod on their squad."

_DEMIGOD..._ "You know I would still kick your butt in a fight, Seaweed Brain." Annabeth's voice had gone to a serious tone. "Also, it's 1892, for Zeus's sake. It's not my fault that they don't make pants for women."

Thunder clashed in the background. Dream-Percy winced, before turning his attention back to Annabeth. "You know why it's 1892? Because of your stupid -"

"I know well enough WHY we're in this trouble, Percy. You don't have to remind me." Her voice dripped with guilt. The spectating Percy struggled to figure out what that meant.

"Good. And now I have to go try out for an agency that'll go have me kill people. Because, you know-"

Annabeth stood up, dropping her book. Dream-Percy took a step back instinctively. "I'm trying, Percy. I've been rejected by four colleges, you know that."

"But we _can't afford _college! Can't you take a job as a waitress or something in the mean time, so we aren't this desperate?" Damn. Percy hadn't remembered being so savvy with money back then.

"If I become a waitress, then I'll be wasting time I could be spending on figuring out these tears. And maybe a way to get us home."

"We don't have your machine, it's impossible. You told me yourself."

"It has to be possible, Percy. We can't give up hope." Annabeth strode over to Dream-Percy and kissed him on the cheek. "Now go, or else you're going to be late."

"Alright. Wish me luck."

Dream-Percy was about to head out the door when Annabeth remembered something. "Just one more thing, Percy!"

"Yep?"

"I've been missing my period."

Dream-Percy froze, and turned to his girlfriend. "I could've sworn you just said that you've been missing your period, but I must've misheard you."

"No, you didn't."

Sea green eyes clashed with grey ones. "Well... I'll... I have this interview. We'll talk later, okay?"

Annabeth nodded in assent, and watched as Percy walked out the door. "When did he start being mature?" She asked herself, before picking up her book again.

It was titled Barriers to Trans-Dimensional Travel by Robert Lutece.


	8. Eight: God Only Made One Cornelius Slate

_Veterans! You shed your hearts' blood for Columbia, lost limb and viscera in the godless Orient! Comstock did nothing! And yet- look up! Whose image squats above you, even now? At every angle an insult! If the Prophet would make a painted whore of our past, what fresh rape does our future hold? Let us now make our stand, and fill yonder hall with true Heroes!_

-Cornelius Slate, July 5th, 1912

* * *

"Percy! Percy wake up!"

His eyes slowly slid open to see an excited looking Elizabeth, shaking him. "Wha... what's going on?" He reached for his handgun on the nightstand instinctively.

She looked in horror at the weapon. "It's fine! Nothing's wrong!"

Percy breathed out deeply, setting the gat back on the table. "Don't wake me up screaming bloody murder next time."

"Sorry. Come on! The sooner we get to the airship, the sooner we get out of here!" The girl grabbed his hand and forced him into a sitting position.

"What time is it?" Percy asked groggily, putting on his shoes. He reached for his holster, sliding it over his vest.

"Before five. But we should get there early, right?"

"I guess." Percy slid the Broadsider into his soldier holster. When Elizabeth gave him a strange look, he answered, "We can't be too careful. There's a chance we might run into more coppers."

"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." Elizabeth put her hair into her low ponytail, purposely avoiding Percy's eyes.

Percy sighed. "Again, I'm sorry about last night."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. What you said about New York... I believe you." She looked out the window, as if picturing the city. "But what if that happens? What are we going to do then?"

"We'll cross that bridge if and when we get to it. Now let's go."

Percy led the way out of the hotel, saying a half-hearted goodbye to the manager. The partners traveled to the gondola dock, which was thankfully devoid of any pedestrians. The sky was still dark, as it was still very early in the morning.

A lever was placed at the end of the platform. "So this is how we summon the gondola..." Elizabeth said, glancing at the large Shock Jockey power conduit behind it. "And it runs on Shock Jockey."

Percy grabbed the lever with his left hand, knowing that his right would protest in pain. He pulled it, but precisely as he did so the power conduit went out again. "Of course it exploded. Now what are we going to do?"

Elizabeth's eyes lit up as she spotted an advertisement. "Look! 'Come see the future of power at the Hall of Heroes.'"

"Ah. Well that's convenient."

No sooner had he said that, the PA system crackled to life. "Gentlemen, the False Shepard is loose in the streets of our fair city! Will you suffer by allowing your wives and daughters to fall prey to his devious machinations? Act for your Prophet! Act for your women folk! Act!"

Suddenly, the enthusiasm was gone. "Percy, if we get into trouble, what should I do?"

Percy balked at the question, being caught off guard. "Stay hidden. I'll call for you when I think it's safe."

Her eyes were sparkling with mischief. "I bet I could help."

"NO. I won't let you."

"Oh come on! I could find you ammo, or medicine, or-"

"I said no, Elizabeth. Now come on, let's find out where this place is."

* * *

"Mr. Jackson, what's a Vigor?"

The pair had finally found the gates to the Hall of Heroes tucked away in the corner of the boardwalk. No policemen were guarding it, even though signs said that it was closed. Percy pushed the button to summon an elevator.

"It's... okay, I don't actually know how they work, but they allow you to do amazing things. Like this." Percy commanded Undertow to pick up an errant kiddie pistol. Elizabeth's eyes bugged out as he brought the toy back to him.

"That's... that's amazing! How do you do that?"

"Like I said, I'm not exactly sure. You drink this stuff down, and then you receive these powers. They're pretty awesome. I'll have to show you Possession later." Percy broke his water tentacle and the toy flintlock dropped into his hand. He handed it to Elizabeth jokingly.

"Har har." Elizabeth set the toy on a nearby trashcan as the elevator slid open. "So you can just use those powers... forever?"

"I'll need Salts eventually. They come in a little blue bottle - hard to miss." Percy could actually feel the need for such a thing coming on at the moment. He felt his control over Undertow weakening.

The duo stepped into the elevator, and Percy hit the button with his bad hand on instinct, yelping in pain. "Are you alright?"

Percy tried to keep his voice normal, despite the incredible pain that he was going through. "Yep. Sure."

Elizabeth frowned. "I'll look again at your hand later. For now-" The elevator shook, the lights flickered, and soon it stopped moving. "Did something happen?"

"My legendary luck appears to have struck again. I bet I can fix this." Fortunately, the fuse box was right inside of the elevator. Percy opened it, then began to fiddle with it. A buzzing grew louder and louder.

"Ah! It's a bee! I hate those things!" Elizabeth cried.

"Just kill it!" Percy didn't look back at her - he finally figured out what he had to fix.

"No, it'll sting me!"

Percy sighed at his companion's childishness. "Come on, Elizabeth! You're a grown woman! Just step on the damn thing!"

"I have a better idea."

"What?" Percy finished the work and turned to Elizabeth just in time to see her put her hands together. "What are you doing?"

"I'm opening a Tear!" With a grunt, a small window to a penthouse somewhere opened up. Flower pots were hanging out of the window. The bee flew contently out of the window and towards the plants.

"What exactly is that?" Percy asked, mentally scolding himself for forgetting to not bring this up before.

"It's a Tear. I used to open them all the time in my tower."

Percy groaned in frustration. "No. What _exactly_ is a Tear?"

"It's like... a..." Elizabeth paused for a moment, trying to come up with an adequate explanation. "... a window. A window to another world."

"That's incredible!"

"Most of the time they're dull as dishwater - a different style of clock or wallpaper."

"This seems a bit more different than just a different wallpaper."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yep. Sometimes I see something amazing... and I pull it through." She crossed the little barrier into the other world, plucking a rose from the flower box. She put it in her hair. "Like that."

"Good god... I don't suppose you've got an airship in there?" Percy asked jokingly.

"I don't think so." A low screech could be heard through the window. The girl turned to it, curiously. "But there is... there is something..." She gasped.

"What is it, Elizabeth?"

"Songbird!"

Percy pulled out his Broadsider. "Close it, then!"

"I'm trying!"

"Hurry!"

The window shut just before the flying monster could enter the elevator and seriously mess up their day. The tired Elizabeth fell backwards into the elevator door, trying to catch her breath. The two sat in silence as the door clicked open, and the elevator finally arrived at their destination.

Before they left, Percy grabbed the woman's arm. "Look," he said, "if you don't know what's on the other side of one of those things, _don't open it."_

Elizabeth turned to look at him. "And if I do know?"

"I..." Percy started. Something inside of him dreaded the Tears - and it had something to do with his dream last night, it... "If you think it can help us... fine. Just don't bring in Songbird."

Elizabeth smiled bravely. "I won't let you down, Percy!"

As they walked into the room, Percy understood why it had been shut down. "Looks like a war happened in here!" Elizabeth said.

Crates of broken weapons and ammunition littered the room. Percy knew that he could use all that he could get. "I'm going to salvage whatever I can. Just don't wander off, please?"

She nodded in assent. Percy knelt down over a box, grabbing a few errant Broadsider rounds. He also managed to find a working China Broom shotgun again. Happy about his good fortune, he turned to where he thought Elizabeth would be waiting for him. She wasn't there. His heart pounded. "Liz? Where are you?"

"I'm over here!"

Percy raced to the voice, to find Elizabeth crouching over a golden bottle. "What did I say about staying put?"

"I know, but -"

"You scared me half to death! Just don't do it again."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Percy could have scolded her further, but he bet that if he were her than his reaction would've been the exact same. "So what did you find that was so incredibly important?"

His traveling partner handed him a golden bottle. "The crate says that it's a Vigor - one of those things that you told me about."

Percy examined it. "Bucking Bronco. I tried a sample of this stuff before. It's useful."

"I don't think that's a sample."

"Neither do I." Percy yanked the cork off, steeling himself for the little trip he was about to undergo.

The liquid tasted roughly of what it the sample had - mostly licorice and chalk, with a hint of absinthe. His hands felt as if they were coming apart - Percy screamed accordingly. In a few seconds, it was over.

Percy's normal vision came back, and Elizabeth looked at him with eyebrow raised. "That looked like a heck of a hallucination."

"It was. Hopefully, this'll be worth it."

"What does it do?"

"Launches people in the air. Hopefully I won't need it, but..." Percy shrugged. "Let's keep going. As soon as we get that Shock Jockey, the better."

The duo approached the exit to the little room - and they emerged into a small strip of boardwalk. The House of Heroes was a Skyrail trip away from this place. But, of course, there were policemen dotting the area. "And when we strike, we will teach Cornelius Slate a lesson!"

Percy turned to Elizabeth and whispered, "Go hide inside near the Bucking Bronco. I'll come back for you when I'm done with this. Don't move a muscle until then, okay?"

The girl nodded, and Percy pulled out his Broadsider. Then a part of him become for creative - why not try out his new Vigor. He pointed his left hand at soldiers, and soon they were floating in the air.

* * *

"Elizabeth? Come on out!"

Percy was sweating profusely after clearing out the step and three buildings, but he was still okay.

The girl walked out of the building to find Percy on the other side with his gun holstered. His clothes were a bit more tattered and a small bloodstain was on his pants, but things could have been worse. "It's over, right? Please tell me it's over!" Percy merely nodded. "You look tired."

"It was exhausting. On second though, those Tears of yours might come in handy next time we're in a scrape."

Elizabeth smiled. "I knew you'd want my help."

"Hey! Don't do anything stupid. Make sure no one sees you."

"I'm not stupid. Of course I won't get seen." Elizabeth glanced again at Percy's wounded hand before looking away. "So who was that Slate person they were talking about?"

Percy shrugged. "I'm not sure what his deal is. He's against Comstock, I know that much. Which means less trouble for us."

Or, how wrong he was.

The companions made their way down to the Skyrail station. "We can get up to the Hall of Heroes from here."

He looked to his left to see Elizabeth claimed a Skyhook from a toolbox. "This is going to be fantastic! How exactly to I use this thing?"

"Just point it at the Skyrail and pull the trigger." To demonstrate, Percy launched himself up to the rail. Elizabeth followed suit, laughing wildly as she did.

The ride up to the Hall of Heroes was short and quick, but it did no favors for Percy stomach. As soon as they dismounted, Percy vomited over the rail. He hoped that no one was directly underneath that. "I hate those damn things." He muttered.

"That was amazing!" Elizabeth said happily. It made Percy happy to see her happy, but his stomach was still not agreeing with him.

"Okay. Now that we're here, it should be an easy way in." _Famous last words, _he thought.

* * *

"That wasn't easy."

Percy nodded in agreement, out of breath. They'd run into some unidentified soldiers as soon as they came into view. Elizabeth had managed to toss him a rifle to deal with them, so that was pretty cool. But other than that, it sucked.

"We sure have a lot of people coming for our heads, don't we?" Percy asked rhetorically. He reloaded his shotgun and pistol, before pushing open the doors to the museum.

The place was dark and mostly ruined. Corpses were strewn all over the floor, while the light caused strange shadows to form all over the place. This place was just downright creepy, in every sense of the word. Behind him, Elizabeth gasped. Percy spun around just in time to catch her.

"What happened?"

Elizabeth only pointed down at a corpse. She must've tripped over it. "Are you okay?"

The girl gulped. "Yeah. Let's get this over and and done with."

"Couldn't agree more."

They arrived in a large atrium, with a marble statue of Comstock in the middle. A light suddenly shown harshly down on the work of art. "Well, well, well," Came a booming voice. "If it isn't Percy Jackson."

"Aw, hell." Percy muttered to Elizabeth before raising his voice. "Slate? Is that you?"

"Indeed it is, Jackson." Slate confirmed. "You here to murder more of my men?"

"Hey, hey, look. I didn't mean to kill your men out front. They attacked me first. We're here for the Shock Jockey!"

Slate chuckled. "No, Percy. You misunderstand. I'm not upset about you killing my men." Percy and Elizabeth exchanged confused looks. "You give them an honorable death through battle. And that is all a warrior deserves. Something that my father taught me."

Blood trickled out of Percy's nose. Slate seemed to have implied that Percy should have known his father... but how... "Listen, Slate-"

"Comstock cannot defeat my men! And so he tries to starve us out!" Slave continued to below. "But no true soldier can call that a real death. So you will give them an honorable one, Jackson!"

Percy turned towards his partner. "Elizabeth? There's going to be trouble."

Four soldiers busted through a door. Percy barely had time to throw up a water shield. With enough handy work from his Broadsider, the four laid dead in seconds. "There, you see, Jackson? You're a warrior, a true soldier! And you will give us honorable deaths! Deaths your father would be proud of!"

Percy's head throbbed it pain. "AHH!" He collapsed to the ground, clutching his skull. His father... he was... he was...

"Mr. Jackson!" Elizabeth rushed to his side, kneeling over him. "Mr. Jackson, are you alright?"

His vision went dark.

* * *

"Percy! Percy, wake up!"

His eyes bolted open. "What... what happened?"

Elizabeth's concerned eyes snapped him back into reality. "You had a seizure or... something! Your nose was bleeding, and you were writhing in pain."

_"Deaths your father would be proud of!" _Percy thought.

"Are you okay?"

Elizabeth grabbed Percy by the shoulders and forced him into a sitting position. "How long was I out?"

"Only a minute or two. But... I thought you were dying, and I-"

Percy struggled to his feet, wiping the blood from his face. Getting severe headaches along with chronic nosebleeds was definitely not good in any way, but he had to press forward. He needed that Vigor. And he also didn't want to scare Elizabeth. "I'm fine. Now, let's go."

"But what if that happens again?"

Percy turned and set his hands on her shoulders. The girl was clearly scared by everything. "It won't." Percy promised. Elizabeth put on a brave face and nodded. "I'm as creeped out as you are, Liz. I don't care how many of those men he sends at us, we're getting that Vigor."

"See!" Slate's voice boomed over the PA again. "You were born to kill, Jackson! My men will go down in a blaze of glory!"

"Just give us the Shock Jockey! Please!" Elizabeth cried back.

"Miss, if you want it so badly, then your friend here is going to give my soldiers a good death. Take it or leave it."

Percy sighed, before reloading his shotgun. "Stay one step behind me, Elizabeth. This is only going to get worse."

* * *

"The tin soldier takes credit for the actions of a real one!"

Cardboard cutouts of Sioux Indians with glowing red eyes shuffled around behind tall cardboard grass. "Wounded Knee... my books said that the Union army barely defeated the Indians." Elizabeth said, studying a fake tomahawk.

Percy laughed hollowly. "It was a slaughter. Men, women, children... It didn't matter."

"WE STRODE THE BATTLEFIELD LIKE THE HEROES OF SPARTA!" Bellowed Slate, inflamed by Percy's comment. "We wrapped ourselves in glory on December 29th, 1890!"

"What's so glorious about a massacre?" Elizabeth asked Percy, looking a bit overwhelmed by everything.

The man gripped his shotgun tighter. "Nothing at all. Now, come on. We need to go." He realized right then and there that he hadn't actually fought at Wounded Knee. But why had he thought that earlier...?

They walked through another door, coming to a large mechanical statue of George Washington. Elizabeth pulled a giant lever in front of the creation. "With hue and cry, with hatchet red, they danced among our noble dead!" A voice projected out of the statue, while the robot moved his arms as if he were preaching. "But when our soldiers took the field, the savage horde could only yield!"

"Something tells me George Washington wouldn't approve of this." Elizabeth said, her arms crossed."

"Agreed."

The next room they were in was - of course - devoted to the Prophet, Father Comstock. A statue proudly declared that Comstock guided the sword at Wounded Knee. "Now you see Comstock has lied! It was brave Major Whitfield who led us that day, NOT COMSTOCK!" Slate's voice cried. "You would have fit right in, Percy."

"No! I would never do this!"

"You and I are alike, Jackson. No matter how much you wish to deny it. MEN! This is the man of flesh and bone who will take your lives! Go to him!"

Percy turned to Elizabeth. "Hide!"

* * *

Elizabeth approached the next exhibit, taking the lead. "The Boxer Rebellion..." Cardboard cutouts of extremely stereotypical Chinamen popped out with a shriek. The girl jumped backwards with surprise. She gathered herself quickly. "What happened there?"

"In Peking?" Slate asked, startling Percy. "It was MY HAND that burnt the city to the ground! But that's not how Comstock tells it!"

"The Chinese wanted to get rid of outside influence. So they tried an uprising. It failed." Percy said to his traveling companion. That was about the extent of his knowledge on the subject anyway.

The paintings and diagrams showed that masses of Chinese were up in arms against the major powers of the Earth. In a way, it was sort of like the American way of hatred of foreign influence. Elizabeth once again took the lead, finding another mechanical George Washington.

"'Twas yellow skin and slanted eye that did betray us with their lies! Until they crossed the righteous path of our Prophet's holy wrath!" The construction said cheerfully.

The next room was clearly a winter scene - fake snow blew about the room, and dozens of cardboard Chinese dotted the room, all with swords. "Oh, I read about this! Comstock led the Columbian troops into Peking, and-"

"COMSTOCK WASN'T THERE!" Slate cried back angrily. "The Boxers took my eye and thirty of my friends! Is there even a sign to mark that sacrifice?"

Just then, more of Slate's men burst through the door.

* * *

"It's almost over, Percy!" Slate yelled.

Percy picked up a shotgun off the floor, emptying it of bullets. He quickly loaded them into his own and put the rest into his pocket. "Slate! Just let us have the Shock Jockey!"

"No! Not yet. Come back to the rotunda."

Percy scowled, before turning to see a concerned looking Elizabeth. "Come on. He said this is almost over. Let's go."

After the two arrived in the main area again, The PA crackled to life again. "I've got what you need, Booker. You will find me past the First Lady's memorial."

"I've read all about the First Lady! They say she was killed by Daisy Fitzroy and her Vox Populi." Elizabeth commented, leading the way again.

"Well, your books haven't been exactly right so far. I bet we're going to find something a bit... darker in here."

"You've seen how Comstock has done to my history!" Slate cried. "Now see what he's done to rewrite his own!"

A large portrait to Lady Comstock was dominant in the first room. Elizabeth whistled. "Say what you want about Lady Comstock - but the woman's got an eye for fashion."

"Thank you for that brilliant input, Liz."

"No problem." Okay, so she could handle sarcasm. That was a relief.

The next area held a marble statue of Lady Comstock holding a child up high while riding on the back of a chariot. Elizabeth approached the plaque underneath. "The Seed of the Prophet lay in the womb of our Prophet but for a single week..."

"That's impossible." Percy muttered.

"But still... I didn't know Comstock had a child."

Percy kept his mouth shut, examining the other plaque. He was formerly quite certain that Elizabeth was the daughter of Comstock, but now, after seeing that little statement... At the very least, the week in the womb thing was ridiculous. "But the child took ill, and our Lady prayed for the Prophet's heir day and night."

"Huh. That's... an odd thing to put on a statue." Elizabeth said to herself.

The next room showed a marble Comstock with a baby in hand approaching... "That's my tower." Elizabeth said in disbelief.

"Lo!" The exhibit cried. The voice clearly belonged to Comstock. "While Daisy Fitzroy has murdered my beloved, she shall NOT have the child! She shall not come betwixt her and prophecy! THE SEED OF THE PROPHET SHALL SIT THE THRONE AND DROWN IN FLAME THE MOUNTAINS OF MAN!"

A horrified Elizabeth turned to Percy. "Am I... am I...?"

"You're Comstock's daughter."

Tears threatened in the corners of her sapphire eyes. "No! I can't be! I-I can't-"

"He wants you to follow in his footsteps." Percy concluded. He wasn't exactly sure how to break it to her any easier.

Elizabeth made fists. "Well, I want a puppy! But that doesn't mean I'm going to get one!"

"Exactly." Percy said softly. "So we're getting you out of here. We're taking away _Comstock's _puppy. Understand?"

"Yes. Now let's just... get that Vigor and leave. I've had enough of this place to last a lifetime."

She quickly picked a lock silently so that they could leave the building. They came to a closed gate. "Great. Now what do we do?" Percy asked rhetorically.

Elizabeth ran her fingers through her hair for a moment, trying to think of a plan. "Well, I can fit through these bars, but you're too broad." She shimmied between the iron, popping out on the other side. "Let me scout ahead and see if there's a way to move forward."

"Alright. Don't go far."

Elizabeth turned around, took a few steps forward before freezing. "Look!" She said, pointing to something. A ripple in the universe. A Tear. Percy squinted at it, and made out a freight hook. "

"Well that's convenient." Percy said, pulling his Skyhook off his belt. "Bring it in!"

The Freight hook shimmered into existence, and Percy shot up there. He saw some of Slate's men enter the Courtyard below. "I see two more Tears!" Elizabeth cried. "That one will give us access to higher ground... and the other will give us a turret."

"AND some cover. Bring that one in."

The freight hook dissapeared, leaving Percy a hard fall to the pavement. Their brand new MG Turret spun into action.

* * *

"You did good back there, Elizabeth. Couldn't have done it without you." Percy complimented. The turret had really helped out the most - Percy just had to make sure no one destroyed it. He'd managed to scavenge some more away and even a few dollars that had fallen out of pockets.

"Thanks." Elizabeth seemed genuinely pleased. She loved helping out, it seemed.

"Alright, come on. We must be getting close by now. Keep an eye out for that Vigor."

They opened the door into the gift shop, where at least five George Washington robots were all spewing propaganda at once. Elizabeth covered her ears. Suddenly, they all stopped.

And then the one at the end of the row bellowed, "Gog judges - I act!"

The robot bashed through his glass case, Gatling gun in hand. Percy swore.

* * *

At long last, Slate slumped against a stone column. He'd sent another insane wave of troops at Percy, which he only managed to defeat with the help of Elizabeth's Tears. Seriously, those things were a godsend. But hopefully, this was going to be it.

The bottle of Shock Jockey was next to Slate. He wasn't moving. Percy and Elizabeth exchanged a glance. Percy reached down to grab the Vigor, nearly jumping out of his shoes when Slate looked up at him.

"You're not done here soldier! Eat everything that's on your plate!" He commanded. He forced a pistol into Percy's hand.

Percy chucked the handgun away in disgust. "Enough violence. All I want is the Vigor."

"TIN MAN!" Slate roared in protest. Percy ignored him and uncorked the bottle that he'd fought so hard to get. He downed it in a gulp, and waited for the hallucination.

* * *

"I can tell what Slate said bothered you."

They were on their way out of the Hall of Heroes - trying their best to ignore the dead bodies and the smell of fresh blood.

Percy scratched his facial hair. "It did bother me, yeah. But it wasn't lies. Not all of it, anyways."

Elizabeth grabbed Percy's arm, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "You taught me that you have to do what's necessary to survive. You've done that."

"I've killed hundreds of people in the span of less than twenty four hours." Percy took a deep breath. "What can possibly forgive that?"

She slid her hand into his bandaged right hand. "I don't know. But what I _do _know is that we've made it! We're finally going to be out of the city!"

Percy smiled a bit at her enthusiasm. She followed the elevator door with his left hand, keeping his right hand clenched in hers. "I don't think I truly understand what you do. How do you open those Tears of yours?"

"I don't know, to be honest. I couldn't find anything in books that explained it, either. Oh, well. I'm not going to complain. It's just another thing that helped us today."

The elevator clicked open, and the pair stepped out into Soldier's Field. The sky indicated that it was around eight in the morning. "Alright then, miss. Let's go get our airship."


	9. Nine: The Seventeen-Finger Gang

**A quick Author's Note.**

**Keep the reviews and feedback coming in. At the end of the day, that's what's motivating me to continue. Well, that and the fact that Burial At Sea: Episode 2 is still over a month away and I need some Infinite-y goodness to stay sane. That Behind the Scenes video... mah gawd. Hopefully Booker redeems himself in this one and we get a crap-ton of father/daughter goodness.**

**Speaking of epic DLC... Left Behind. HOLY CRAP. The Last of Us feels train destroyed me again.**

**Anyways. Read on.**

* * *

_"The truth is, I don't have a lot of time for all that prophecy nonsense. I tell you, belief is...is just a commodity. And old Comstock, well, he does produce. But, like any tradesman, he's obliged to barter his product for the earthly ones. You see, one does not raise a barn on song alone. No sir! Why, that's Fink timber, a Fink hammer, and Fink's hand to swing it. He needs me- lest he soil his own."_

-Jeremiah Fink, March 27th, 1895

* * *

They were uninterrupted by policemen. Maybe God really was on Percy's side today.

He walked leisurely, still hand and hand with Elizabeth. She enjoyed the sunrise, her eyes glittering in the light. She was quietly nervous, as was Percy. He wholeheartedly meant it when he told her that if the people who came to get her were in any way sketchy, he would get her out of there. He was totally unsure of what to do then.

Perhaps Paris?

Regardless, they walked hand in hand to remind eachother that they had allies - they weren't alone in this world. They had at least one ally. Elizabeth drew herself close to Percy, nearly leaning on him. It was comfortable.

Delicious smells wafted over from nearby bakeries, as if it were Satan tempting him. As hungry as he was, he had more important things to do.

They arrived at the summoning lever, where the uncharged power conduit stood cold. Percy summoned Shock Jockey in his left hand, dropping Elizabeth. Of all the Vigors that he'd tried, this was by far his least favorite. Something about it just didn't gel with him. Regardless, it was easy enough to shoot a bolt at the conduit and get it to spark. "There we go." Percy cranked the lever, and it didn't explode this time.

Elizabeth grabbed his bad hand again, gripping it with vigor. "Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a hole in my hand."

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot." She loosened her grip back to a casual hold. "So do you know how to pilot a zeppelin?"

"It can't be all too hard, can it? I mean, I know the coordinates of New York. That should be good enough." Percy just then realized how hopeless his plan was. Once he piloted the zeppelin to New York, then what? Where would he land it? Where would he find his employers?

_Or you could just forget them and steer the damn thing to Paris._

The gondola arrived with a satisfying DING. A few of the nearby constables glanced over. "Come on, Elizabeth. Let's go."

Elizabeth summoned a bobby pin and quickly took care of the door lock, and they were on their way in seconds. They stood in silence, both knowing that a decision would have to be made soon. "So... when you were unconscious on the beach, you kept repeating a woman's name."

_"Anna." _Percy said to himself.

"Yes, that's what it was. You said that was the name of an old girlfriend?"

"Correct."

"And... that's why you have that scar on your hand?"

Percy looked at her oddly. "Uh, no. That's because a guy stabbed me yesterday."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I meant the brand."

"Oh... yeah." Percy dropped Elizabeth's hand, stepping forward to look out to window. "You know how I told you last night that my girlfriend died giving birth? That was her."

The young girl joined him at the window, her doe-eyes trying to make contact with his sea green ones. "You have a child?"

Percy closed his eyes. "No."

Elizabeth knew when to let the subject drop. "So... who hired you?"

"A man who was willing to take my marker in exchange for you. I gambled." Percy's memories there were clear - he had, in fact, gambled. Those weren't fact memories, like the one he had about Wounded Knee. He decided to bring something up that he had been bothering him. "I've been thinking... Comstock can't be your father."

"Why not?"

"Well," Percy thought about all that he knew about Elizabeth and Comstock, "first, there's the whole 'one week pregnancy' thing. That's just impossible, no matter how you squint at it. Second, you don't look much like Comstock or his wife. And third, the way the equipment was set up at the tower... not even Comstock could do that to his own daughter. The cameras, the whole 'Specimen' thing..." Percy shuddered. "I don't think you're his child. If that makes you feel any better."

Elizabeth looked relieved, but Percy could still see the gears in her head turning. "Well, then who am I? If he kidnapped me as a little kid or something, then... that must mean I have a family somewhere! Right?!"

"Well, I suppose so."

Elizabeth grabbed Percy by his vest. "We need to find them, then!"

The gondola arrived at the dock, signaled by a musical tone. Percy pried Elizabeth's fingers off his clothes, regretting getting the girl's hopes up. "Listen, Liz. It's, uh..." Percy started, "It'd be difficult to find your birth parents. If Comstock took you when you were young-"

"Then no one could recognize me." Elizabeth realized, sounded dejected. She opened the door and walked out onto the dock.

Percy hustled after her, worrying that he'd done more damage than he intended. He grabbed her by the arm. "Hey. It's going to be okay. If the debt collectors seem the wrong sort, you can pick where we go next."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up. "Paris?"

The older man realized subconsciously that he would never find the debt collectors safe enough for Elizabeth. And the girl probably knew that too. "Sure. I mean, you always talk about it, so it must be a nice place, right?"

She nodded, before looking down. "I don't have anything to pay you back with."

"Think nothing of it."

"No. I..." Elizabeth slid a small beaded bracelet off of her arm and handed it to Percy shyly. "This always gave me luck when I was little. So...?" Percy accepted it, putting it on his right wrist. The brown, square beads spelled out "Elizabeth" in faded letters. "It's how I chose my name. Songbird gave it to me when I was six."

"Wow. This is..." Percy knew how much sentimental value that it must have held to her.

She was about to respond when a bullet bounced off of Percy's shield. "Crap!" He drew his Chine Broom and dove behind a garbage can. She followed suit. Percy peaked around the corner, seeing five or so of Columbia's finest in front of the necessary elevator. "Look for Tears. I'm going to trust your judgement. Pick whatever you want."

"Okay! I won't let you down!"

Percy advanced upwards, as two more bullets ricochet off of the seemingly magical Lutece Field. But it was now broken. He had to be careful again. He picked one man off with his shotgun, and knocked three more poor bastards off the city with Undertow. Only one heavily armed man remained, and in his hands was a Flak Cannon.

"Percy! I can bring in a tiger!"

"What?"

A vicious Bengal tiger rippled into existence, which pounced on the armored man. He screamed in pain "Close it!" Percy commanded. The cat vanished.

Percy ran up to the fallen man to find that he was still alive, albeit barely. He used Undertow to create water chains, holding him to the ground. At least one less man could be on Percy's conscious.

He picked up the man's weapon - a Pig Flak. It launched grenades. Elizabeth caught up to him. "Seems a bit excessive."

Percy checked to see how well stocked the weapon was - it was full. Eight small projectile grenades were in a revolver-style setup. "Don't worry, I'm not compensating for anything." Percy responded jokingly.

"I don't understand."

"Good." Percy slung the weapon over his shoulder as a souvenir while the dying man cried in pain. He had horrific wounds on his face and chest where the tiger had ripped through the thick armor. Percy glanced over his shoulder to see that his traveling companion was looking away. He pressed his Broadsider the policeman's face and pulled the trigger. He thought of it as a mercy killing.

He shuddered before dissolving his water restraints. _Maybe it'll be the last man I'll ever have to kill. _Wishful thinking. "Come on. Our ride awaits."

The elevator ride seemed to take forever, and was in dead silence up until the very end. "How do you figure they knew you'd be coming?"

"Well, either they've got a Prophet on their side..."

"Har har."

"Or something else is going on."

Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Well, maybe if we get out of this city, we won't have to worry about it."

"You're preaching to the choir."

They boarded the First Lady with no interference, which was nice. Elizabeth took a seat next to the control panel, which Percy took a look at. It seemed like the only navigation device was a coordinate setting system and a button to ignite the engines. He took a deep breath and then plugged in the coordinates. He'd already made his decision.

North 48, East 2. He started the ship.

Elizabeth looked up in awe. "That's not New York. That's..."

"Paris."

She rushed Percy with her arms outstretched and latched onto to him with a hug. He patted her back, smiling broadly. She said something into his vest that sounded like a "thank you".

"No problem," He laughed. It was hard not to feel good at that moment.

"What about the people who you owe money to?"

"Screw 'em."

Elizabeth let go of the hug and got on her tip toes to kiss Percy on the check. "Do you know any French?"

Percy was about to respond sarcastically, but he was distracted by the sight of another gunship headed for his airship. It looked like the others, except that this one had red banners flowing off of it.

"What the hell is-" He never got to finish, as a massive impact sent them both flying. Percy felt a brief pain, and then everything went black.

* * *

Percy was in dream-land again, rather unsurprisingly. This time he was New York, inside of a small restaurant. It was a cloudy, smoke-filled room clearly in a poorer part of the city. He spotted the past version of himself along with Annabeth in a booth.

"Dad isn't responding." Past-Percy said, sipping at a cup of coffee. He was much younger - even younger than the other version he'd seen before. Both in attitude and looks, he seemed... fresher. His clothes, however, betrayed that notion. A tattered black suitcoat covered with stains was on his torso, with grey pants on his bottom half.

Annabeth shook her head in disappointment. She was a common grey dress, and clearly uncomfortable. "I can only play the stock market for so long. We have to get jobs soon."

"Jobs?" Past-Percy shook his head. "I can't do anything. Besides, this is only temporary. Until you can create a new machine, right?"

His girlfriend sighed. "It's going to be difficult. I don't have any credentials. No university or scientist in New York is going to take in a random woman. There's someone in England, in Coventry - by the name of Lutece. He's been experimenting with quantum mechanics."

Past-Percy gave her a blank look. Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Seaweed Brain. You really need to pick up on how this stuff works."

"I was barely understanding all of that architecture stuff, and then you decide to do physics? It's unfair. I'm only good at swinging a sword."

"Hey, that's not true!" Annabeth protested. A waitress came by the table and dropped off breakfast. A small bowl of beef stew and a chunk of bread was placed placed in front of Past-Percy, and the same for Annabeth. "I don't think I'll ever get used to the breakfast here."

Past-Percy sipped at his dish. "Better than the codfish hash we had on Tuesday."

"I'll agree with you on that. Though the bread is a little stale."

"We're in Mulberry Bend. What do you expect?" Past-Percy choked down a bit more of his stew, clearly trying to ignore it's questionable contents.

Annabeth glanced around. The small eating place was full of unemployed men and women who were slumming it up. The spectating Percy remembered his time in Mulberry Bend - it was by far the worst place to live in the city, by his knowledge. At least twenty years ago - it was a park by 1912. "We need to get back to our own time, Annabeth. We can't live like this for much longer."

"My bids in the stock market won't be enough for even the Mulberry Bend apartment if I don't get lucky again. We NEED jobs."

Past-Percy set down his spoon and sighed. "I know. But what am I going to do? There isn't exactly a ton of work around here."

A man in the booth behind cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir? Did I hear you were looking for a job?"

Annabeth gave Past-Percy a look, like, _you better do it. _He turned around to find a man in his fifties looking back at him. "I'm with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. We're having open interviews on August 4th, the great year of 1892. If you're interested..." The man handed Past-Percy a small slip of paper.

"Uh... thank you, sir." He turned to look back at Annabeth.

"The Pinkertons..." The woman said to herself. "It's dangerous work."

"Enlighten me, my dear lady," Past-Percy said sarcastically, "because I have no idea what they do."

"They call in the Pinkertons to deal with worker riots, breaking up unions, and other such things. It's... not ideal, but..."

Past-Percy looked down at the slip of paper. "August 4th isn't for another three months. What are we going to do until then?"

"I don't know. I'll keep looking at the stock market, and you... I heard that Williams over at Almack's Dancing Hall is looking for janitors." Past-Percy began to protest, but Annabeth held up her hand to stop him. "It's either that or join up with a gang, Percy. And if you have to shoot at people, I'd rather it be with the Pinkertons."

"Fine." Past-Percy relented. "So how has talk with your mother been?"

"Nonexistent. None of my Iris Messages have been getting through either. And we already tried Camp Half-Blood."

"Bastards. We saved their sorry asses up on Olympus twice, and how do they repay us?" Thunder rumpled on an otherwise clear spring day. "I can't believe they would just abandon us. They offered me immortality, and now they can't help us out of a problem like this?"

"Percy... watch your words. I knew what I was getting into when I discovered the Tears. I'm just sorry that you're caught in this mess too."

Past-Percy took both of her hands. "We've been through worse. You'll build that machine, and then we'll be home."

* * *

It took awhile for Percy to wake up, at least completely. He remembered briefly coming to consciousness to see Elizabeth run out, crying. And then gunshots. And then someone grabbing him by the throat. He was pretty sure that that was what woke him up.

The next thing he knew, he was hanging outside of the airship; below him was a bunch of prisoners in stripes with a Handyman from the carnival overseeing them. They were sorting through trash, it seemed.

But he was hanging out of a perfectly good airship - so he only thought on thing.

"Holy shit!"

"Daisy," said the man holding Percy's neck, "Fresh air did the trick. This one's awake."

Percy was yanked to his feet gruffly, noting that the man holding him was black. A young African woman approached them. Daisy... Daisy Fitzroy?

"So you're the False Shepard we've been hearing so much about." She mused. "You caused a mess of trouble at the raffle."

Percy tried a charming smile. "You're Fitzroy? I saved those people."

"A whole bunch of good that did for them. They were killed earlier today."

Percy squirmed nervously under the man's grip. "I don't have any quarrel with you or your Vox Populi, Fitzroy. But this is MY airship you're hanging me out of, and if you let me have it I'll be out of your hair."

"Really?" Fitzroy didn't look convinced. "Because this looks like Comstock's airship to me."

"We stole it. Now, I don't want to fight with you. I've got as much against Comstock as you, and-"

"Then join the Vox! Comstock is the god of the white man, the rich man, the pitiless man! If you believe in the common folk, then join the Vox! If you believe in the righteous folk, then join the Vox!"

"Enough." Percy cut off the woman before she could finish her holier-than-thou speech. "We just want out of Columbia."

"We? Are you talking about the girl who we found running around the docks earlier?"

Percy growled, "Where is she?"

"If you want the airship and the girl, then you must help the Vox!" Daisy insisted.

The former Pinkerton held his steely glare. "What do you need?"

Daisy produced a business card. "Down in Finkton, there's a gunsmith - Chen Lin. He can supply weapons to our cause. Get our guns for us, and you will have your ship back."

Percy nodded.

"Your girl is right over there, trying to hide from the police." Daisy gestured to something that Percy obviously couldn't see. "Now, you'd better be on your way." She nodded to the man holding him, and he shoved Percy out of the airship with an evil smile.

The wooden boards that made up the "ground" broke Percy's fall in a very painful impact. The man struggled to his feet before seeing a very familiar girl in a blue skirt being chased by guards up ahead.

Percy disposed of them easily - his Broadsider took all of their lives, as they clearly weren't expecting it. Percy dashed up to where he'd last seen Elizabeth, but she had dissapeared. Thankfully, there was only one way she could have gone. No forking paths. He was lucky for once.

He ran into another bout of guards, but they were easily disposed of. At last, Elizabeth popped into his view once more. But then another group of two intercepted her and grabbed her roughly.

"Let go of me right now!"

"Comstock wants ya, girl!" Responded an unfamiliar voice. "And we mean to give him to ya!"

"After we're down with you, of course." Said the other guard creepily.

A new feeling rushed through Percy - a protective, paternal-like rage. He holstered his Broadsider and dashed up to them, just as the first guard had Elizabeth pinned down.

"YOU LET GO OF HER, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He punched Asshole #1 in the jaw, launching him backwards. Asshole #2 pulled a knife of out of his pocket and turned to lunge at Percy. Elizabeth took the opportunity to scurry free.

The knife connected, going straight through Percy's shield. It pierced his left forearm and dragged from elbow to wrist - not too deep, but plenty enough to draw blood. Percy howled, and got shot a spike of water at the man's stomach, impaling him against the wall. Dead.

Percy tried to ignore his stinging left arm, and looked around for Elizabeth. "Gotcha, False Shepard!" He'd forgotten all about Asshole #1. He grabbed Percy from behind, by the throat. Percy swung his elbow backwards into the man's groin, and he broke free.

"You sick bastard!" Percy yelled, punching the guard straight in stomach. But he didn't go down that easily. Asshole #1 drew a knife. "I didn't know the entire Finkton investigation department were lousy enough that they have to bring knives to fistfights!

The guard caught Percy by surprise, charging him with a speed Percy didn't think was possible. He pinned Percy to the ground, locking both of his arms above his head. "That was my brother you just killed, you bastard! I'm taking more from you than just your life!" Asshole #1 threatened.

His knife was brought down on Percy right ring finger. And then his left middle finger.

Percy's vision blurred and he screamed his pain. This was way worse than having his hand pierced by the knife - this was among the worst pain he'd ever experienced his life. "You son of a bitch! Just kill me if you're going to!"

"My brother had six children and a wife. One finger for each of them!" The guard cried maniacally. "Then one for the Prophet, one for me, and another for good luck before I send you to hell!"

"ELIZABETH!" Percy cried, hoping to get through to her before he died. "Run! Get out of here!" A fist connected with Percy's throat.

A brick soared through the air, hitting Asshole #1 in the face. "The girl!" The guard let go of Percy. His last mistake. Percy's hand bolted for his Broadsider, and the guard was finally dead. Percy dropped his gun after accidentally looked at his hand. He vomited in response.

"PERCY!" Elizabeth cried in fear as she saw her traveling companion in his mangled form. "Are you okay?"

"Fingers..." He croaked. The man's fist had done a number to his vocal cords.

"Oh my god... oh my god..." She said, after seeing his hands. "What... what do I do?"

"First aid kit."

Elizabeth nodded at his words and rummaged through crates as fast as she could. "Percy... Percy, how're you doing?"

"I'm alive. Now please, hurry up!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

* * *

After another few seconds of searching, the girl pulled a small health kit out of a crate. "Here we go!" She rushed to his side, propping his up against a desk. "I read about this in a book..." A small bottle of antiseptic was poured over his wounds. She took gauze and pressed the fabric to each of Percy's stumps. He yelped. "It's going to be okay."

Percy nodded roughly. "I... we can..."

"Shh." Elizabeth held the gauze in place, forcing her weight down on the wounds. She had to stop the bleeding. That was the most important thing. She noticed with a start that his arm was also bleeding heavily. "Ah, heck..." She let up the pressure on his fingers for a moment to wrap his arm. It was against anything that her books had ever taught her, but he was going to bleed out. She returned to his fingers, hoping that she hadn't doomed him.

"You saved me. Again." She said, in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. She examined exactly where the fingers were cut off; the cuts were rough and not horizontal. His left middle finger was severed near his first knuckle, while the right ring finger's cut was near the hand and diagonal. Elizabeth shook her head, trying to get the thoughts out of her hand. She needed to focus.

"How bad is it, Liz?" Percy asked weakly.

Elizabeth looked back at his fingers. "You're going to need a tourniquet." She took some more gauze and ripped it into thinner strips. She cautiously removed the pressure to find his fingers still gushing. Yes, she needed to tourniquet. No question. She applied bandages and tied the thin strips as tightly as she could around the fingers. "It's going to hurt." She warned.

"As long as I live... I don't care." Percy muttered. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Percy, stay with me. Come on." Elizabeth checked his forearm, to make sure that she'd done adequately there. She had. She took a deep breath before sitting next to him. "Those men... they were going to hurt me..."

"They're dead now. And I've made an arrangement to get our airship back."

Elizabeth perked up. "How?"

"Fitzroy had control of it now. The Vox Populi lady. If we can weapons from this gunsmith, Chen Lin, then the airship is ours."

Percy stood up, despite Elizabeth's protests. "Percy, you need to-"

"No. We need to keep going." He examined his hands. "They'll call us the seventeen-finger gang."

"Ha." Elizabeth looked down at her own missing finger. The silver thimble had a speck of blood on it, which she quickly wiped off. "We're a right pair, now, aren't we?"

"I guess so." Percy practiced aiming with both his China Broom and his Broadsider. "I'll make it work, if we get in trouble." He turned to look at her. "You could use some new clothing."

Elizabeth frowned and looked down at her blouse and skirt. Her left sleeve was nearly severed at the shoulder, and there was a rip in her back that she could feel. Another rip was in her skirt - one in the side that went up to her knee. The top few buttons of her blouse had ripped off, showing a bit of her corset underneath. And her ascot was untied.

Percy himself was also in need of a change. His clothes weren't stained with dirt because of his shield, but they were stained with blood. And his already shabby attire was ripped and torn. "I don't know where we're going to find a change. It doesn't matter. We find Chen Lin, we get his guns, and then we go to Paris." Percy said, reassuring himself as much as he was Elizabeth. "Now, let's go."


	10. Ten: Feeling Like a Winner

**RIP Irrational Games.**

**You've changed what I thought was possible in a video game. Ken Levine, please love me 4EVAR. And also all of the other amazing people at Irrational who lost their jobs. You're the most talented studio in the whole damn world, and I know that you'll find work elsewhere.**

**Anyways, continue reading my subpar fanfiction. **

_"I have a pressing need to speak to this so-called 'False Shepherd' stirring up so much trouble. We got enough problems without this damn fool shooting up the city and blamin' it all on the Vox. Though, if he's amiable...yeah...yeah, he might be just the fella we need for our...immediate concerns."_

-Daisy Fitzroy, July 7th, 1912

* * *

Percy looked at his hands again, trying not to throw up what little remained in his stomach. _The Seventeen-Finger Gang._

Elizabeth had saved his life. If she'd not had so much down time in her tower, if she hadn't acted so decisively, Percy wouldn't bled out and died from multiple knife wounds. And it was because he couldn't handle two simple security guards.

He thought he could handle his shit, and now he was worried he couldn't.

"Percy? There's a Tear here... a Skyrail. We can use it to get up to the Finkton Docks; that's where this gunsmith of yours is, right?"

The former Pinkerton snapped out of his thoughts. "Yeah. You go on up and wait for me, I need to see if I can scavenge any supplies."

She bit her lip and nodded, clearly not liking the prospect of going alone, but realizing that Percy needed some alone time. She opened the Tear and then zipped away on the rail.

Percy searched the pockets of those who tried to rape Elizabeth, morality be damned. He then saw his severed fingers lying in pools of blood - he threw both of them off of Columbia out of frustration. He took a deep breath before stepping forward to ride the Skyrail.

"FALSE SHEPARD."

The Handyman. Percy had forgotten.

The metal monster dropped down right in front of Percy, knocking him on his back. The Handyman wrapped his giant metallic claw around Percy's torso and threw him off the edge of Columbia. Percy managed to catch himself on a crate suspended by a crane, but the Handyman threw a sharp piece of metal like a Frisbee and sliced off the ropes. Percy began to fall, and there was precious little he could do to stop it.

This would a rather crappy way to die.

Then something appeared underneath him. A small zeppelin. Percy grabbed onto a piece of rope, keeping himself from falling. "Percy!" Came a woman's voice. He looked to see Elizabeth on the main dock to Finkton. Percy jumped off the zeppelin and onto the dock, where Elizabeth brought him into a tight hug.

"I leave you alone for two seconds and you almost die again?" She asked him, clearly joking.

Percy returned the embrace. "I almost die a lot, kid. Now, come on. We've got a gunsmith to find."

* * *

"Uh... Mr. Jackson?"

"Percy." The man corrected. They'd run into more enemies on the inside of the station - a few police guys, nothing Percy couldn't handle. "What's up?"

"You're not... mad at me, are you?"

"About what?" Percy knocked the bullets out a fallen shotgun, adding them to his stockpile.

"About leaving you behind. On the airship, I mean."

Percy turned to look at her. She was leaning back against a pillar, red-faced. "Okay, maybe at first, I was. But trust me, you fixing my fingers disabused of that notion in a second. And also, you _did_ think I was dead."

"Are you absolutely sure you aren't angry?"

"If I was angry, I wouldn't have hugged you like that. You thought I was dead; you kept moving." Percy was mentally impressed with the girl's ability to move on from loss quickly, but he didn't bring it up. "Besides, you were grieving." He put on a cheeky smile. "You _were _grieving, right?"

Elizabeth only rolled her eyes before she went to go rummage through some lockers. Percy finished looting the rest of the policemen, noting that he was running low on Broadsider ammunition. He'd be forced to use the grenade launcher soon. "Percy, look what I found!" She tossed him a good looking banana.

"Thanks." Percy inhaled the fruit, as he was starving. It was already past noon - it had been over a day since he'd eaten that hot dog in New Eden Square. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. He summoned the elevator, which would probably take a few minutes to arrive.

"Wow... this is Slate's locker!" Elizabeth said as she opened the last one. "And... my mother's journal?"

"What was Slate doing with Lady Comstock's journal?" Percy asked no one. He approached the locker and pulled out a voxaphone. He pressed play.

Slate's recorded voice rumbled,** "I hold in my hand the private journal of Comstock's wife. It puts the lie to this 'Miracle Child' nonsense. She loved the child not. It seems the sainted lady would have preferred to let the 'seed of the Prophet' just...dry out on the bedsheets..."**

Percy scowled at the last part. "Uh. That's foul."

"I don't understand."

"Good. Now, what's the journal say?"

Elizabeth began to read aloud. "'My husband claims that the child was created from whole cloth by divine will. I am a believer, but I am not a fool. His..." She sucked in a deep breath. "...bastard shall not be raised under this roof.' So it was my mother who locked me away in that tower."

"At least Lady Comstock wasn't a fool." Percy offered, not exactly sure what the statement was supposed to mean. "I... I mean, she didn't blindly follow everything that Comstock believed."

Elizabeth's face grew dark. "Can we please just get out of this city?"

The elevator dinged open in response. "I want to leave as much as you do. Now, let's go."

Percy hit the button to take them down into Finkton. That action seemed to trigger some sort of propaganda message. "Greetings! My name is Jeremiah Fink, and I'd like to share with you my personal creed. What is the most admirable creature on God's green earth? Why, it's the bee!

"Have you ever seen a bee take a vacation? Have you ever seen a bee take a sick day? Well, my friends, the answer in no! So I say... be the bee!"

"He's forcing these people to work like slaves down here." Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. As if on cue, the elevator stopped suddenly.

"Oh, not this crap again." Percy muttered.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond when the telephone in the corner began to ring. The two slowly looked at the communication device, then at each other. Percy picked it up uncertainly."

"Uh... hello?"

"Mr. Jackson?"

"Uh, yes?"

Elizabeth looked at him strangely. "What's going on?"

"Hold for Mr. Fink, please."

After a brief second and a confused glance between the two in the elevator, a man's voice spoke up on the other end. "Jackson? Fink here. Listen, my boy - we've had our eye on you, and I can tell you right now that you are our top candidate!" Percy glanced at Elizabeth, who shrugged. "Now, my assistant, Mr. Flambeau, will help you with anything you need." The line cut dead.

"What the hell was that?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.

Percy winced a bit at her mild profanity. He was likely to blame for corrupting the young woman. "Beats me. I've got no idea."

"He seems... oddly please to make your acquaintance."

"Clearly because of my excellent people skills and superior good looks, and nothing to do at all with how I aim a gun." Percy joked weakly.

The elevator began to descend again, and soon something appeared that made Percy's jaw drop. A huge statue in the likeness of Jeremiah Fink was in the middle of his own factory. Solid gold. The man made a monument to himself for all the little people to look at constantly. That was all kinds of wrong. Even Comstock wasn't this egotistical.

Elizabeth saw his expression. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just... that." Percy waved his hand at the statue.

"I know. The sooner we find Chen Lin, the sooner we can get away from here."

"Agreed, let's get this over with. And possibly kill that son of a bitch while we're at it."

The girl said nothing, she only continued to look out the window. The statue dissapeared from view, and more propaganda clicked into speakers. "Now, some say to me, 'Fink, why is it that we get paid with tokens that are only good at the company store?' Well, I'll tell you what: I'll be damned if I'd let any of you folks get robbed at some shady establishment.

"You see, the Fink company store brings you Fink products! At a price designed specifically for the Fink worker."

"I don't get it. If the people here hate colored, then why are there so many of them in Columbia?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because none of the whites want to do any of the messy jobs themselves. There always has to be a janitor." Percy said somberly.

"But that doesn't make any sense."

"You're right."

The elevator opened to a small room that held a butler-looking guy with excellent hair. Probably that Flambeau fellow. "Mr. Jackson, thank you for coming." The man greeted. "Mr. Fink has offered these gifts, as a token of good will."

Percy cautiously approached a closed briefcase, eager to see it's contents. It held ten dollars, which Percy pocketed happily, along with five vials of Salts, and a gun. Percy held it up - a Paddywhacker Handcannon. Stupid name for a gun, but it definitely packed a hell of a punch. The thing was huge and held nearly shotgun-sized round. Percy slid into a holster, with a slight smile.

"So, Mr. Flambeau, what does Mr. Fink want with us?" Elizabeth asked the assistant. A fine question it was - and one Percy probably should have asked first.

"Sorry, miss, but Mr. Fink's interest is strictly in the gentlemen. Any further questions can be taken up with Mr. Fink himself."

Percy laughed dryly. "There isn't a gentleman in this room, pal." And he pushed forward into a courtyard of some sort, out of the room.

The large area seemed to be the center of Finkton proper. A large board with job listings on it stood front and center, and in front of it some sort of reverse-auction was going on. The bidders kept on lowering the amount of money they'd take for a specific job, until no one was willing to drop the earnings any further. The guy who'd offered the lowest got the job. It was a scummy system, to be sure.

"There, Percy - look." Elizabeth pointed to a large red sign. "Chen Lin's shop. Come on."

They made it to the Chinaman's shop without attracting any attention, thank god. But of course, when they entered the building, things were all wrong. "This isn't good." Percy noted.

"What isn't good?"

"This is a gunsmith's workshop. That mean's there's a forge, and where there's a forge, there's a whole lot of noise. It's dead silent." Percy drew his China Broom on instinct. "Something's not right. Stay behind me."

The duo crept upstairs, not sharing a word. At least, not until Elizabeth spotted something that Percy had missed. "Look... it's a shrine."

Percy strained his eyes to see what she meant. A small basin of water was underneath a small statue of a sitting man. "What god?"

"That's Gautama Buddha. You know, the founder of Buddhism? They say he sat under a Bodhi tree for 49 days until he achieved Enlightenment."

"Huh." Percy looked down at his reflection in the basin. "I bet Comstock doesn't like idols getting worshiped that aren't him."

Elizabeth used some of the water to wash a bit of dirt off of her hands. "Are you a religious man, Percy?"

Percy struggled to think about that. The memories... they hit a wall. He couldn't remember anything about his past in regards to religion. "I don't think so. Now, come on. Let's go."

"What do you mean, you don't think so?"

Percy turned to her. "My memory is a bit fuzzy, okay? That's what years of the bottle will do to you. Don't ever touch the stuff."

"Uh... your nose is bleeding..."

The former Pinkerton wiped it away, clearing his head. "I'm fine! I'm okay! Let's just keep moving."

"Alright." Elizabeth said with uncertainty. Percy knew that she didn't like the little memory episodes, but there was naught Percy could do about it.

The actual workshop on the top floor was cluttered with machinery, but it was abandoned. Papers scattered on the floor. Boxes smashed and pieces of gear missing. "Hello? Mr. Lin? Chen Lin? Is anybody here?"

Silence was the response from the workshop. "What happened here?" Asked Elizabeth.

"Place got worked over. Just the local constabulary, by the looks of it. Fink's private army, if I had to guess." A woman crying become audible downstairs. "You hear that, right? I'm not going crazy?"

"You're right. There's someone downstairs."

In front of the shrine to Gautama Buddha now stood a short Chinese lady, weeping. Percy cleared his throat and approached her. "Uh... excuse me. Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you, I j-... We're looking for Mr. Lin? A Mr. Chen Lin?"

"Percy." Elizabeth scolded. Percy gave her confused look in response.

"Mr. Lin not here," the lady responded in broken English.

Elizabeth placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Where is he?"

"They take... Flying Squad. They take away Chen Lin. I pray give husband back to May Lin." The woman responded. Ah, so she was Chen's wife.

"Where did he go?" Percy admired Elizabeth's persuasive abilities. He'd have gotten nowhere with May Lin.

Mrs. Lin frowned. "Squad take husband to Good Time Club. Everyone take to Good Time Club!"

Elizabeth patted her shoulder. "We're getting your husband out, okay?"

The fretting wife turned to her shrine. "Why Vox Populi not help us? Why Fitzroy not help us?" she asked no one in particular.

The traveling companions exchanged a quick glance and then decided to leave the workshop without a word spoken. "What do you suppose she meant by Flying Squad?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"Could be Comstock's men, could be Fink's men. Either way, they aren't friendly." Percy patted Elizabeth on the back in a way hopefully not-awkward way. "Come on. We're going to get those guns from Lin, and then you can start teaching me French. How does that sound?"

"Excellent." They searched in silence for the club before Elizabeth spoke up again. "I suppose we're doing some good for a change."

"What do you mean?"

"Rescuing Chen Lin, working for Fitzroy. It's a bit more heroic than what we did in the Hall of Heroes."

Percy laughed humorlessly. "No such thing as heroism when you're taking human life."

"Then why is your career about killing people? You clearly don't like what you do."

The man nearly retched at the thought of telling the truth. But... keeping it from Elizabeth any longer held no point. "I don't dislike what I do."

"What? Well... why?"

"Because it makes you feel like a winner." Percy spat out the sentence he'd been holding in for over a day. Just verbalizing the awful truth left a bitter taste in his mouth, as if the words themselves were poisonous.

Elizabeth looked at him, her face full of disgust. Big surprise there. "A... a _winner? _How-"

Percy sighed, cutting her off. "You've got to understand - I never _chose _this. I was in a bad situation at eighteen. Me and my girlfriend could barely afford to live in the poorest part of New York. Then... the Pinkertons were my best shot at staying in decent living conditions. Even before then, when I was a teenager... I fought a lot. Trained a lot in combat when I was young." Percy couldn't exactly recall where that memory had come from. "I've been doing this for as long as I remember. It's all I know how to do."

"But then-"

"After a while, it's difficult to be disgusted by your own actions. It's amazing how quickly you get acquainted to killing once you start." Percy's face was forward, refusing to make eye contact with Elizabeth. His voice was dripping with shame and regret. "You have to trivialize it at a certain point, or else you'll go mad. So it's... kind of like a game."

"A game." Elizabeth repeated in disbelief.

"When you kill someone... you feel powerful. You've chosen that the man in your sights can no longer exist. _You've _made that decision. You've won. A winner and loser. A man who lives, a man who dies. A game." Percy spit into a nearby bush. "And I'm still alive, so I guess..."

Percy felt like vomiting. He'd barely begun to admit these things to himself. "You know when I told you before that I'm not a decent man?" Silence was the girl's response. Percy felt obliged to continue. "I'm sorry. It's not fair to you that you're stuck with a psychopath like me."

"For the love of god, Percy, you aren't a psychopath!" Elizabeth insisted. Percy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her sapphire eyes were angry. "You... Percy, look at me." She grabbed Percy and roughly turned him towards her. "You're a kind person! I've seen it!"

"Clearly you were looking the other way when I was slaughtering hundreds, then."

Elizabeth forced him to sit in a nearby bench, so that way she could look him in the eye. "Percy, you did that all to protect me. Those men in the Hall of Heroes? They committed suicide by throwing themselves at you. You wanted no part of it. The policemen? Servants of Comstock."

Percy looked straight into her eyes without flinching. "The man who I impaled with a water spike had six children and a wife. The man who pinned me down was his brother. He was going to... what did he say... take all of my fingers before 'sending me to hell'?" Percy shook his head. "Some people do deserve to die."

The girl narrowed her eyebrows. "Who?"

"People like me." Percy stood up, doing his best to ignore Elizabeth's tears. It was about the worst, most sad thing in the world to see, and he felt even worse knowing that he was the one who caused them. Eventually, he couldn't take it any longer. "Please don't cry." He pleaded in a soft voice.

"Don't ever say that again." Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. "You _do not_ deserve to die. Every man deserves a second chance."

"But does that man deserve a one hundred and second chance?" Percy readjusted his pistols in his holsters, before sitting back down. "Look, I don't want to talk about this. We find Chen Lin, get his guns, we get our airship, and then Paris. Happily ever after for you."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. We're going to talk about this."

Percy gave her a weary look. "Please, just let it go."

"NO! Percy, you rescued me from my tower, you scorned the people you owed money to in order to MAKE ME HAPPY."

"What's your point?"

Elizabeth reached out and took Percy's hand. "I would miss you."

He tried his best to look forward and not give in to her eyes. _Ditto, Liz. _Is what he wanted to say. Instead, he swallowed the words. "Yeah. Sure. Let's find this Good Time Club and just get it over with."

The girl nodded slowly, sliding her hand out of his. "Lead on."


	11. Eleven: A Different Perspective

_They argued somethin' fierce at night- Lady Comstock and the Prophet. Could never make out what it was about from my bunk, though. After the worst, I see she ain't left for morning prayer...so I crept upstairs to check in on her. And like a fool...I lingered. "Scullery maid" was what they called me when I walked into Comstock House. "Murderer" was what they shouted when I ran out._

-Daisy Fitzroy, February 12, 1912

* * *

Elizabeth was completely and utterly confused about who Percy Jackson really was.

One moment, the man could be a caring gentleman willing to cart a girl that he'd just met to Paris, and the next he could turn around and kill someone without effort. It was baffling to Elizabeth. She only really knew about how human beings acted from her books, and she'd never read about anyone quite like Percy.

Clearly, he had a lot of regret for the things that he'd done, and wanted to atone for them. He only rescued Elizabeth as a job, sure, but he'd taken a very real interest in her quickly. His eyes betrayed his emotions frequently, although he didn't know it. It was plain as day to Elizabeth that he cared for her on the same level that she'd become attached to him.

But then he had to say that killing made him feel like a winner.

Percy's repeated insistence that he was a bad person suddenly made sense. He had a lot of regret about the choices he'd made in life, but he could end a man's existence without feeling real remorse. The men he killed were strangers to him - which was why the man who had chopped off his fingers had scared him so much. The mere idea of killing a human being with personality sickened him. But others? No problem. They were game animals to him.

She shivered on that thought. How could she not hate someone so ruthless? Elizabeth had no idea. But the thought of losing a friend now that she had one was nauseating. "Kid? You alright?" Percy asked cautiously, looking down at her with worry. It must have been her thoughtful expression.

"I'm fine. Now, I see the club over there," Elizabeth pointed a distant sign, "but it's behind the police line."

"Excellent." Percy said sarcastically. He squinted to check out the amount of policemen. "Ten guys, maybe? And a turret..." He scratched his face, as if thinking of a plan. "Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't freak out when I do this, alright?" Percy summoned a strange green light in his left hand. A Vigor. He pointed at the turret, and it glowed green after a few seconds. It then opened fire on the policemen.

"Who would invent that thing?" Elizabeth asked. She did her best to not listen to the policemen scream in agony.

"Get down!" Percy grabbed her by the arm roughly and pulled her behind a barrel. A loud gunshot rang out. "There's a sniper. This is going to be delicate thing."

A Tear suddenly appeared next to Percy - a barrel full of rifles. _A form of wish fulfillment. _She brought it in, startling Percy. "Ah. That helps. Thanks, kid."

"No problem." _I just love being an accessory to murder, _she thought morosely. She also didn't like it too much when the older man called her "kid". She was nineteen, for god's sake. And also, it felt a tad bit belittling.

Percy grabbed a rifle and pressed his eye to the scope. Another shot rang out - the sniper missed Elizabeth's shoulder by a narrow margin. "Just do it already!" She cried in frustration.

A second later, an ear-shattering shot rang out next to her. "Alright. Either he's dead, or he isn't in a fit condition to keep shooting at us." Percy reported, dropping the rifle to the dirt. "Let's get into the club. But first-"

"Scavenge for supplies. I know." Elizabeth leaned against a nearby pillar and watched Percy get to work, emptying guns and occasionally peeking in pockets when he thought that Elizabeth couldn't see him. But of course she could. Percy did stealth about as well as the average elephant.

When he was finally done, he called the girl over. "The entrance is right there." He pointed awkwardly to the sign that was pretty much directly right in front of their faces.

"I noticed." Elizabeth said, stifling a giggle.

"Well then, come on." Percy pushed open the door into a posh looking room. He drew his shotgun just in case -

"Welcome to the Good Time Club!" Cried an automaton. Percy jumped like a meter in the air. "Where lions roar!"

"Jesus. It'd be nice of them to warn you about the creepy robot." He muttered, throwing his shotgun over his shoulder. Elizabeth only smiled, once again stopping herself from laughing. "What's so funny?" Percy demanded jokingly.

Before Elizabeth could cook up a sarcastic response, the PA system rippled to life. "Ah, Jackson, my boy!" The voice belonged to Fink. "You know, the best kind of interview is the one where the applicant doesn't know he's being evaluated! I've been keeping tabs on you since the lottery."

"You want me to find another baseball, Fink?" Percy threatened. Elizabeth didn't understand why that was his go-to intimidating phrase.

The PA continued, ignoring Percy's challenge. "Haha... you're a brute! And in times like these, I could use a brute!"

Percy drew his handcannon. "I'm going to kill you." He said to the voice.

"Labor unrest is coming, Jackson! Heh heh... now, Fitzroy's got the jungle all riled up. A man like me could have use of an old Pinkerton like you."

He tightened his grip on the handgun. Elizabeth took the silence to ask the obvious questions. "What do the Pinkertons have to do with labor unrest?"

Percy sighed, shutting his eyes. "Everything. I was based out of the New York unit. We were hired out by the corporations to take care of labor disputes." He opened his eyes. Elizabeth noted that his usual bright green orbs were sadder than normal. "We had to show the workers about the folly of striking. We were enforcers. Hired out by men like Fink."

Elizabeth was worried that he'd slip into another one of his self-pity monologues, so she interrupted him. "You were just doing your job."

"Damn right. And I don't do that work anymore. Fink's damn near crazy if he thinks I'm going to work for him."

"What was that you said about about a baseball?"

"Oh." Percy grew red, as if embarrassed. "I hit him with a baseball yesterday. I managed to somehow win the Columbia raffle, and the prize was first throw at a mixed couple. So I put the ball into his face instead."

"You're a good ma-an..." Elizabeth said in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up." Percy said jokingly. "Now let's get Chen Lin and get the hell out of here."

* * *

Watching Percy fight was something else.

Fink had the other applicants for his job fight to the death, and of course Percy won. He was whirlwind, using his shotgun and his Vigors to make the battle seem effortless. She'd hid in a cabinets for the entire ordeal, but she did peek out at some points. The way that he sometimes laughed like a maniac while in combat frightened her, as the did the idea of her closest friend being a killing machine, but she felt safe with him.

He fought like he was invincible, which he sort of was with that shield of his. He used the Undertow Vigor with ease, he could seemingly do it for a long time without needing Salts. The way he fought confidently reminded her of the legends she'd read of Achilles or the Byzantine Cataphracts.

When the battle was all over and Fink declared Percy the winner, the former Pinkerton trudged over to Elizabeth, covered in sweat. "I need a drink. I'm going to head into one of the side bars."

"I thought you said that drinking was bad."

"I said _you _shouldn't touch the stuff." Percy clarified. He pushed open the door to the bar with Elizabeth on his heels. "Me? Been drinking for too long. No point in stopping now." He plucked a bottle off the shelf. "'Jeremiah Fink Rye Whiskey.' The man's got a little business everywhere."

Elizabeth slid into a booth, looking at her hands. "What's good about alcohol? I don't get it."

Percy sampled the liquor before frowning. "Nothing good about this stuff. It's watered down garbage." He went back, looking through bottles. "I don't know, exactly. It's not for the taste." He pulled a small glass bottle off the wall. "Where does a floating city get moonshine?" He mused.

"It messes with your mind. What're the positives?"

Percy yanked another bottle off the rack. "That's the number. Rum." He poured himself a half-glass. "Hmm... they have any Coke around here? Uh, sorry. About your question, I'm not sure. It's kicks you in the ass. It makes you feel good." Percy pulled two class bottles from an ice chest. "You want a Coke?"

"You told me not to drink." Elizabeth answered, confused.

"You've never had Coke, have you? With... you know..." They both acknowledged Elizabeth's imprisonment with silence. "But yeah. Coke's a soft beverage - no alcohol. It's sweet. You'd like it." Percy popped the caps off, poured some of one bottle in with his rum, and brought the other to the table. "You liked the ice cream, right? It's sweet like that."

Elizabeth grabbed the bottle hesitantly, and watched Percy talk a long drink from his own glass, before shivering. "It's been a few days." He explained quietly.

Against her better judgement, Elizabeth drank from the bottle. The liquid was odd - like there were a million different small explosions in her mouth. The taste was sweet, like Percy had said. "See? it's good stuff."

"What's the point of putting in rum?"

Percy shrugged, taking another sip. "Rum is good. Coke is good. Therefore, rum and Coke is doubly good."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "What an excellent role model you are."

He sighed and wiped some sweat "I never claimed to be one. Now, we might as well get moving. Are you done?" Elizabeth nodded, so Percy downed the rest of his drink. "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

Percy needed that drink.

He took the lead, stepping over the bodies of those who he just killed. Elizabeth followed silently behind him. He'd spotted a door that led down into the actual part of the building that held the prison. Why Fink thought that holding all of his criminals under a fancy club like this was beyond him.

As the duo went down the stairs, a pungent aroma became increasingly present. It was predominantly human waste, with a hint of rotting meat. Elizabeth behind him gagged. "Are you going to be okay?" He asked.

"I'm alright, Percy." She was paler then Percy had ever seen her.

"I know, the smell isn't great. You can wait upstairs if you-"

"No. I'm coming with you." She insisted.

The PA system clicked on. "Jackson, I know all about your deal with Fitzroy. But I always get what I want."

Percy chuckled dryly. "Try me, you son of a bitch."

"Do you know how many people would _kill _to be head of Fink Security? You're a tough nut to crack, Jackson. A tough nut!"

They found themselves in a room with a projector. Elizabeth switched it on. Of course, it turned out to be interrogation footage. The only thing on screen was Chen Lin tied to a chair. "Tell us what you know about Fitzroy, you goddamn gook." The interrogator barked at him. "We know you can hear us."

Chen Lin said nothing. "You want to say something? Or should we bring in Mrs. Lin for company?" Still no response. "Eh, whatever. Just throw a bucket of ice water on him. We got three more to bring in tonight."

Elizabeth looked over at Percy. "Why was he tied up? What were doing to him?"

"Torturing him. Part of interrogation." Percy turned off the film, not wanting Elizabeth to see it. "It's a way of getting information out of people."

"But wouldn't anyone admit to doing something wrong if someone threatens to hurt them?"

"Yeah. That's the point."

The smell became stronger and stronger, so the search to find Chen Lin's cell took a lot more time than it should have. Eventually, Cell 9 was located in the corner of the room. But of course, it was locked. Percy kicked it in frustration. "Dammit."

"Let me have a go at it." Elizabeth offered, pulling out a hairpin. As she began to work on picking the door, she said, "What do we do once we find Chen Lin?"

"We have him make us the guns, we take them back to Fitzroy, and then we're on our merry way." Percy had been hoping earlier to pick a fight with Fink, but it seemed like that was a long shot at this point. That was the secondary objective. Or was it the tertiary objective? What about Comstock?

Before he could bring all of this up, Elizabeth finished lockpicking. "Done." She said, in semi-cheerful tone.

This cell was clearly bigger than the other ones. Despite being labeled as a single cell it seemed more like a torturing area. "Jackson, you're a lion." Came Fink's voice. "But you can't blame me for looking after my own interests, can you? I think you'll find that your business with Fitzroy has... come to an end."

Percy and Elizabeth shared a worried glance. That could not be good.

They ran down four sets of stairs at lightning speed, both silently praying that their worries were false. But of course, the main room had a non-moving body sitting in a chair. Blood surrounded him on the floor. Either Chen Lin was unconscious... or dead.

Percy sucked in a deep breath and flipped on the light switch. Behind him, Elizabeth gagged and turned around. He dashed over to her and held back her hair as she vomited into a bucket. "Sorry." She muttered.

"No problem." Percy said. He looked to examine what had caused her to retch. Chen Lin was barely recognizable as a human being. He sat limp in his chair, with his face bashed and bloody. His body held nearly no shape - it seemed like they'd taken the time to break all of his bones before he died.

"Fink... this is what he meant..." Elizabeth said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Percy was stumped. Chen Lin was their only way out of Columbia, and he sat here in a pile of blood. Unlike all the other obstacles in his way since he arrived in Columbia, he had no idea about this one. No contingency. No plan. Nothing.

"We're going to need to find someone else to make these guns." Percy deadpanned.

"No!" Elizabeth said on reflex.

"Dead is dead, Elizabeth." He said, in a voice that was a bit more harsh than he'd intended.

"Dead... is dead." A familiar voice parroted.

Percy looked up at the doorway to see that the British twins had magically appeared yet again. Just when things were at their worst, the mystical redheads had to appear to make it that much more confusing. "What? What the hell-"

The man held a coin up in between the two, so that he saw one side and the woman saw the other. "I see... heads." The woman mused.

"And I see tails." The man said with a smirk on his face.

"It's a matter of perspective, really."

Percy punched a table in frustration. "Thanks for the lesson on philosophy. Why are you following us? Did Comstock send you?"

"What do you see from that angle, sister?" Asked the man.

"Dead. And from that angle?"

"Alive."

"Percy..." Elizabeth said slowly, as if she'd just realized something. She grabbed my arm. "Chen Lin..."

A Tear had appeared in front of the body. Percy squinted at it, and saw something that took his breath away. The Tear showed of a version of the room with no torture devices. And more importantly... no dead body. "What's going on?" He demanded. "The body's gone."

"It was never here." The man said with a smug look on his face.

"It's another Columbia." Percy realized.

"A different Columbia." Elizabeth answered, staring into the Tear. She seemed to be in some sort of trance.

"The same coin-" The woman started.

"A different perspective." The man concluded.

"Heads."

"Tails."

"Dead."

"Alive."

"Wait," Percy said, holding up his hands so the twins would stop for a minute. "You're telling me that this is an alternate universe?"

"You're very perceptive, Percy." The man noted

"Perhaps you've done this in the past?" The woman had a coy smile on her face.

Percy's head pounded. "What are they talking about, Percy?" Elizabeth asked.

"I don't know!" He answered truthfully.

"Regardless, you are right, Percy."

"A world in which Chen Lin was never murdered -"

"-On the other side of that Tear."

Percy's brain was moving at a mile a minute. "But how can we pull the the alive Chen Lin over?"

"You can't."

"Impossible."

"Percy..." Elizabeth tugged on his arm. "If we go through with this... I don't think we'll be able to come back.

The former Pinkerton squinted through the Tear yet again. A world in which Chen Lin was never murdered... "I mean... surely, that can't be the only thing that's changed, right? Something must have kept him from being killed. What if we go over to this one and find out that Fitzroy doesn't even want guns?"

"Constants and variables." The man said simply.

"A constant: Daisy Fitzroy wants weapons."

"A variable: Chen Lin's ability to make these weapons."

Percy, for some reason, understood this without issue. But Elizabeth behind him was still wearing her 'I have no idea what is going on' face. "We have to go over to this... other Columbia. But how exactly are we going to do it?" She asked the twins.

"It's like riding a bicycle." The man offered.

"One never really forgets."

"One just needs the courage to climb aboard." The lights of the room flickered for a few seconds, and when they came back on, the twins had vanished.

Percy sighed, expecting it. "Of course they're gone."

"Who are they?" Elizabeth asked.

"I don't know. The woman sounds and looks like Rosalind Lutece - the woman who built the city."

"My books say that she died three years ago." She said in wonder. "How can she be alive?"

"I don't know. But after all of this..." Percy gestured generally at the Tear, "I'm willing to believe anything."

Elizabeth looked at the Tear with uncertainty. "I've never opened up something like this. It was only able to being things into this reality, never the other way around. But I'm certain that I can do it." Her eyes were full of determination.

Percy patted her shoulder. "Then go ahead."

Elizabeth made the familiar motion that she used when she opened Tears, but this one definitely took more effort to do. She grunted and groaned before finally there was a bright light.

Which was the last thing Percy remembered before he hit the floor.

* * *

No, this time he wasn't in dream land. He was... somewhere different...

"And the winner is... NUMBER SEVENTY-SEVEN!"

Suddenly, he was back at the Columbian Raffle. Jeremiah Fink had just pulled the number out of the basket. Percy saw the event through his eyes, but he couldn't control his actions. If he could've, he would have turned and ran.

"Number seventy-seven, come and claim your prize! First throw!"

And then he heard the screaming. Pulled forward were two people - a white man and an African woman. Tied to stakes. Struggling to get free. The man was pleading for the woman's life, saying that is was all him. All the while, the people behind were singing a wedding song. An interracial couple. Just like Percy had seen the first time...

"Come on, are you gonna throw it? Or are you taking your coffee _black _these days?" Fink laughed at his own sick joke.

Percy seethed, glaring at Fink. "Looks like we've got a shy one here! Hahaha... we've gotta do something about that!" He pulled back his arm, aiming at Fink's face. But this time... it was different.

A policeman caught his arm on the back swing. "It's him! The False Shepard!"

Percy struggled against the iron grip of the cops. Fink was saying some nonsense up on the stage, though Percy didn't care enough to listen. He couldn't control his body or his actions - he was merely a bystander. He had to watch.

One of the cops to his left fired up a Skyhook.

And this time, Percy did nothing to defend against it.

The rotary blades ripped into his face, causing Percy to scream out in horror. This pain was worse than than anything - worse than getting stabbed through the hand, worse than having his fingers cut off. Because he was watching himself die.

The last thing he remembered was the crowd cheering. Fink cried triumphantly, "The False Shepard is dead! Comstock's prophecy has come to pass! Let us celebrate!"

Percy was tossed onto the ground, barely alive. The last thing he coughed through his mutilated face was "Anna... I'm so sorry Anna..."

* * *

He was back in his own body.

Elizabeth was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and she had put Percy's head in her lap. She was stroking his hair with her eyes closed. But clearly she had been crying - the puffy red areas around her eyes displayed that fact.

"Come back to me, Percy... come back to me..."

Percy still didn't have control of his body or his speech - sort of like sleep paralysis. But then the feeling came back, and he croaked out weakly, "Hey..."

"PERCY!" Elizabeth's eyes shot open. "Oh god... thank you... thank you..."

The former Pinkerton was still weak - his entire body was pins and needles, like what happen when you sit on your leg for too long. "What happened?" He asked, his voice still barely a whisper.

She took his hands. Tears (the crying variety; not the multidimensional variety) had begun to well up in her eyes again, but they were happy tears. At least, Percy hoped they were. "As soon as I opened the Tear, you collapsed and started screaming. You were in such pain... your nose was bleeding..." She took a deep breath. "And then you were silent. Your heart... it stopped beating."

Percy struggled to squeeze her hands in reassurance. "I saw... I saw myself. I think it was the version of myself from this reality." He turned weakly to meet her eyes. "I'm dead in this reality. I... I didn't save this version of you."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyebrows. "So in this universe... I'm still in the tower? Well, not _me, _but..."

"Yes." Percy shut his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She only nodded, before letting go of his hands to go back to stroking his hair. "_You _rescued me. It was a different you who didn't."

"Yeah. But... it's weird. I have two memories in the same place..." Percy felt more blood come out of his nose. "I remember both escaping the raffle and dying at it." Elizabeth ripped a bit of fabric off of her sleeve and used it to wipe away the blood. "I guess that me collapsing was..."

"You remembered being dead?" She suggested.

Percy swallowed air and nodded. "Yeah. So how long was I out?"

"Your heart stopped beating forty five minutes ago. It's going again now, but... how is it possible?" Elizabeth shook her head. "You're alive. That's all that matters."

"You've had me your lap for nearly an hour? I'm positively touched, Elizabeth." Percy said sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I did think you were dead. _Again. _Can you get up or am I going to have to push you off of me?"

Percy struggled to his feet, still feeling a bit faint. The room was quite different - crates of weapons seized by the police were present instead of Chen Lin's body. "There's no blood at all." Percy muttered.

"I know. It's a whole new world."

Percy realized something as he checked his weapons. "I hope Fitzroy will still give us an airship. I never made it here in this universe."

"Didn't Lutece say that she wants weapons in every universe? Even if we didn't make the deal, we could probably still get the airship as a reward, right?"

"That's what we have to hope for." Percy slid his handcannon back into it's holster. "Let's get out of here and back to Lin's gunsmithy. He's bound to be there."

* * *

**Hopefully no one minds that I used an Elizabeth-centric point-of-view for the beginning of this chapter.**

**Speaking of the Elizabeth POV, do you think I should do a Burial At Sea fic with Percy? I'm not sure it would exactly fit with the alternate ending that I've been tossing around in my head, but I might just make it for shiggles. Of course, I'll have to wait until Episode 2 comes out until I can make an educated decision. Drop a review and tell me what you think about the possibility of some Burial At Sea shenanigans in the future.**

**I'm now moving on to the true purpose of this Author's Note.**

**I've taken a different approach with Tear jumping in Vigorous Restitution, because I don't really like how Booker just shrugs off the whole "dead in this universe" thing. All the other people who this happened to are messed up but him? It doesn't make sense. Anyway, it's never specifically said that Timeline-126-Booker died (Yes, that is the official canon name for the timeline they're currently in. The first timeline that we see is Timeline 125, the revolutionary Booker is Timeline 124), but since we don't run into him I'll assume that he died.**

**I'll be spending a whole bunch of time in a later chapter really getting into Timeline 124. Like, probably 1,000 - 2,500 words will be Percy seeing himself become the poster boy for the Vox Populi. I can piece together the story from voxaphones and other such things, as well as my own original content.**

**Crap. Now I need an excuse for how Percy can speak Sioux. I'm going to need to think about that one.**

**Anyways. Chapter over.**

**Face Hugz,**

**Professor Marmalade, AKA The Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


	12. Twelve: Two Parts, Making a Whole

_"Fink's bird is a repulsive creature. But I suppose a prison needs a guard. What surprised me is not how the girl has imprinted upon the monster - after all, one might observe a baby chimpanzee accept a wire replica for its mother. But I did not expect the brute to be capable of forming an attachment in return. Hmm... perhaps it could prove a better father to her than the two she has known."_

-Rosalind Lutece, March 3rd, 1896 (This voxaphone is from the Clash in the Clouds DLC)

* * *

"What else do you think is changed, Percy?"

Percy was looking through the crates of Vox Populi weaponry, most of which were automatic repeaters. Not his cup of tea. He had to credit Elizabeth - she sure sat around and watched Percy do a lot of looting and other similar tasks. So he felt obliged to give an honest answer. "I have no idea. There must be something keeping him alive, right? I suppose we'll find out what that is."

"Well, what could that be? They were talking about constants and variables."

"Maybe Chen Lin isn't directly working for the Vox in this universe? Who knows. Either way, all we need to get is his weapons. And then we're off to Paris."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "About that... this isn't technically our Columbia, right? We just left our Columbia."

Percy browsed through the assorted ammunition. "Yeah."

"What happens if we can't return to our own reality? Do you suppose that would cause problems?"

"I don't know. You're the one who read all those books in your tower, you tell me."

She threw out her arms in frustration. "I have no idea."

"That's reassuring." Percy found a carbine rifle under a box - this was a Columbian military model. He could use something like this. He slung over his shoulder to join his China Broom. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, okay?"

She nodded slowly. "Are you done?"

"Yeah."

Upstairs, what were previously empty cells were now occupied by Vox Populi members. Percy considered freeing them, but as soon as he got close a wave of insults streamed out at him and Elizabeth. So he decided to leave them be.

They continued past more cells of imprisoned Vox soldiers. Elizabeth clearly wanted to help them, but like Percy didn't want to get in the way of their wrath in case something went wrong. They eventually stumbled back across the film room. On a hunch, Percy turned on the projector.

"Daisy Fitzroy. Come one, you piece of shit, tell me about Fitzroy-" The main interrogator was shouting at the tied up Chen Lin.

"Cut him loose." Another voice commanded.

"What?"

"Schofield says cut him loose."

"Why?" The interrogator demanded.

"What are you, the Columbia Gazette? The chink's wife has friends in high places. Besides, the need the cell." The recording cut to black.

"'Friends in high places'..." Elizabeth said thoughtfully, stroking her ponytail. "In this world... his wife had important friends? I wonder..."

"Well, he MUST'VE had friends in our world. How else would a Chinaman be allowed to own a gunsmithy in the most racist part of the city? Maybe he knows a few more here. Either way, he's alive. And that means we're getting those guns."

"Right!" The walk was decidedly more positive than before. That was, until Columbia had to ruin their good spirits with more ominous happenings. On the way out of the Good Time Club, they stumbled across two men curled up in balls, screaming nonsense. Their forms shifted around, as if they didn't belong here.

"I killed these men in our world." Percy commented quietly.

Elizabeth peered down at them, looking closer for details. "Their noses are bleeding, Percy. They're going through whatever you went through, although they seem to be taking it a bit... harder. They remember being dead, but now they're alive."

The main area of the Good Time Club was abandoned - lights were on, the drinks were still fresh, but the place was abandoned. It was... odd, to say the least. The place was clean of bloodstains of all the people Percy had been forced to kill in the old world. It was bizarre... as it it had never happened.

Percy had no idea what to expect outside. He turned to his traveling companion before pulling out his Carbine. "Stay right behind me. I can't even begin to guess what's going on outside."

He was right to caution. In front of the building, a small contingent of Vox Populi were in a shootout with a group of Founders. "Liz, follow me!" Percy dashed to his right, jumping over a railing. Nearby, an abandoned warehouse had it's windows open. It would be a decent place to wait out the conflict.

Percy dove into the warehouse with Elizabeth on his heels. A smaller window in the front of the shop could used to keep tabs on the fight. Luckily, no one on either side seemed to notice them. The two sides were too small to gain a decent leg up on one another.

An then a Handyman crashed in. He charged the Vox position, slaughtering all twenty of them in seconds. Percy shivered, praying that he'd never have to face one of those things. "Hey, kid? It's safe to move on." He looked behind him, expecting to see the girl waiting there. What he didn't expect was to see Elizabeth sitting a corner, sobbing into her hands quietly.

Percy's heart wrenched. He approached her, then went on one knee so he was on her level. "What's wrong, Elizabeth?"

She looked at him, and he was surprised by her look. She wasn't crying at all. She was angry. "How can those policemen just... kill all of those men? What if us coming into this world caused it somehow?"

"I..." Percy had no idea what to say to her. "We'll go to Chen Lin's shop, and we'll have him make us the guns. Don't linger about what's going on here, we'll be out of it soon."

"Do you actually believe that?" Elizabeth asked, barely keeping her voice level. "At Soldier's Field, we had to get the Shock Jockey Vigor. Then we had to find Chen Lin. Then the club. Then through the Tear..." All the anger left her expression. She looked miserable - disheveled and exhausted. How hadn't he noticed it before? "I'm so tired... Do you really think that we'll walk into the gun shop and walk out with everything fine and dandy? Because I don't believe it."

Percy put his hand on her shoulder. "I know it isn't easy to keep going, and I know how you feel. Like you're fighting for no reason." She nodded slightly. "Well, I've been doing it for twenty years. And we do have a motivation - Paris." Elizabeth smiled. Percy was on a roll at this point. "So tell me: what are we going to do in Paris?"

She closed her eyes and thought. "I don't know! There's just so much to do! We... we have to eat in a real Parisian cafe! And we have to see the Louvre! The Eiffel Tower, of course! And... and Notre Dame, too!"

Her sheer enthusiasm made Percy smile. "There you go. Just think about that, okay?"

She grinned broadly at him, nodding vigorously. She rose to her feet and squeezed Percy with a hug, which he returned. "Thank you."

* * *

"Percy, look."

They were back in Chen Lin's workshop, and they were making their way back up the stairs. The workshop had changed in a few odd but insignificant ways - a different style of clock or a different type of wood on the staircase. But the shrine was the most bizarre change. What had been a shrine to Buddha was now a statue of Comstock.

"Not to be glaringly obvious, but that can't be good." Percy drew his Broadsider instinctively. "You don't suppose Chen Lin's 'seen the light'?"

"I'm not sure. Let's go upstairs."

Elizabeth rushed forward eagerly, encouraged after Percy's little motivational speech. But she gasped when she entered the workshop, and Percy soon figured out why. Chen Lin's form was shifting, as if he didn't entirely exist. He was mulling around, pulling cranks and levers that didn't exist.

All of his tools were gone.

The traveling companions shared a look of despair. Percy approached the man slowly, noting the blood under his nose. "Uh... Mr. Len? Excuse me, Mr. Chen Lin? Daisy Fitzroy sent us to get some guns!"

Lin ignored Percy as if he wasn't there, continuing to "work". "What should we do?" Elizabeth asked in a whispering tone.

A woman's voice was heard praying downstairs. Deja vu. Percy led the way back to the shrine, to find a pretty young white woman praying. "Please ease his burden, Father Comstock... ease his troubled thoughts."

Percy saw no way around it. "Uh... we're looking for Mrs. Lin?"

"I'm Mrs. Lin." The woman said through tears.

He narrowed his eyebrows. "No, uh, we're looking for a little Chinese lady, she-"

"Percy," Elizabeth said pointedly, trying to make a big deal out of it without emphasizing it too much. "This IS Mrs. Lin."

It took a few seconds for Percy to understand. Alternate timeline stuff. In this universe, Chen Lin and this woman were an interracial couple. The wife of a Chinaman praying to a white supremacist was a little more than odd. But so was everything else he'd seen in Columbia.

"They took Chen's tools." Mrs. Lin said miserably. "What's he got without his tools?"

"Your husband did seem a little..." Percy tried desperately to think of a word that wasn't "insane". "...out of sorts."

"Maybe if he had his tools back... maybe... he... he could-"

Mrs. Lin was getting seriously worked up about this. Elizabeth comforted her. "We're going to help your husband, okay? Who took his tools?"

"Goddamn police." Mrs. Lin seethed. "They took them and locked them up, in the old impound down in Shantytown. I trust you can show yourselves the way out." She went back to praying to the shrine.

Percy said nothing until they were out of the building, for fear of having Lady Lin overhear them. "Do you really think that the tools would fix Chen Lin's mind?" Elizabeth asked.

Percy crouched behind cover, and then peeked to scan the area with his Carbine. Nothing seemed to be around around. Satisfied, he turned to his partner. "I don't know. He seems a lot more messed up than you say that I was. But, either way - we aren't getting that airship unless Lin's got his tools."

"Yeah." Elizabeth strained her eyes to read some nearby signs. "The way to Shantytown is over in that direction. Let's go."

A very large sign denoted the entrance to Shantytown, which was blocked by Skyrail cars. A lever on the service platform was conveniently placed, so Percy assumed it was for rail control. He pumped it with his left hand, and the cars began to move slowly.

"You can ask me, if you want." Elizabeth suddenly said.

"Ask you about what?"

"My finger." The girl held up her pinky finger with the thimble on it for emphasis.

"Oh. I, uh..." Percy had avoided talking about the finger for the same reason he didn't bring up Tears with her - he thought it would bring back bad memories. He looked at his own hands. His stumps were well bandaged by Elizabeth, but he obviously still felt the pain. Every shotgun shell that he fired hurt his hands more.

"It's alright." Elizabeth continued. "I know as much about it as you do. Maybe Songbird knows but he's not telling."

Percy chuckled at her dry humor. "Well, I've got you beat in the missing appendages category, kid. Don't think about it."

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled. "No problem. I get to wear this stylish thimble to cover up my hideous deformity. Uh... no offense."

"It's not a hideous deformity." Percy insisted. "It's makes us unique." Percy examined his own finger wounds. "You don't suppose I could get a matching set of thimbles? I bet they're all the rage in Paris."

Elizabeth laughed. Percy realized something that shocked him a bit. "Wow." He said, under his breath.

"What?"

"You laughed," Percy said. "I've never heard you laugh."

Elizabeth looked at him curiously. "Is something wrong with it?

"It's a beautiful laugh." Percy complimented. Something else struck his mind, however - the laugh was similar to the one that his mother had. How he remembered that, he had no idea. "Just reminds me of happier times, that's all."

The younger girl looked at the ground, embarrassed. "That's a good thing." Percy added meekly.

The railcars were finally out of the way, so Percy wordlessly pushed the door open. There were a lot of things going through both his and her mind, and it would do them best not to be distracted. Which was why Percy thanked god for his shield, as they stepped into an ambush.

* * *

"I'm hungry, Percy."

The former Pinkerton had just pressed the button to summon the elevator to Shantytown. The ambush hadn't been too difficult - Elizabeth brought in a Skyrail from a Tear so they could have the higher ground. From there, Percy just picked people off with the Carbine.

"Me too. Maybe we'll find a place to eat down here." Percy suggested as the elevator opened. "And maybe a place to sleep." It was seven or eight in the afternoon, and both of them had been up since four in the morning. They were both exhausted.

The elevator took them down slowly, so the depressing scene rolled before them dramatically. It wasn't called "Shantytown" for nothing. "Can you tell me what sex is now?" Elizabeth asked out of the blue.

Percy groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I thought you read books all the time. You've never come across that word before?"

"A few times, yes. But that doesn't mean that I know what it is."

The former Pinkerton pinched the bridge of his nose. He dreaded doing this. "Ever wonder how babies are made, kid?"

Elizabeth scrunched her eyebrows together, thinking hard. "Uhh... I guess not."

"Sex is where babies come from." Percy prayed that her line of questioning would relent. But of course it didn't.

"But what is it?"

Percy heaved a big sigh and explained it all in around two or three minutes while the elevator continued to descend. Elizabeth, much to his surprise, didn't look away or react in any specific way, which made it all the more awkward.

As Percy finished, she looked confused. "What's the big deal, then?"

"You don't just go around asking every person to-"

"I understand why having sex is a big deal, sure. I was asking about why you didn't want to talk about it."

Percy fiddled with a button on his vest. "You want to know?"

"Yeah."

"Your parents are supposed to tell you."

Elizabeth turned a bit red. "Oh. Uh... sorry for making you-"

"No problem."

The elevator finally opened, as if on cue. The place was just as depressing as it looked on the way down. Elizabeth stayed behind Percy, a bit scared of all the sights. Human waste was strewn on the streets, people slept right next to it, and in alleys dead bodies festered. Percy's stomach sunk. "Are these people like this because of Fink? Fitzroy's got the right idea, then." Elizabeth said, holding her nose. "Maybe she _should _pay him back for all of this."

Percy set his jaw and nodded. This place reminded him too much of his past - specifically, that small apartment in the Five Points in Manhattan. When they could barely afford to love in the poorest, most disease-ridden part of New York. "Yeah. But not before she pays _us_ back. Now, come on."

"How can you just accept a place like this?" She demanded.

"No matter how nice a place might seem on a postcard, there's always a bottom rung of the ladder."

Percy continued forward, trying to ignore the intelligible sludge that he was trudging through. Elizabeth followed him wordlessly - she still seemed a bit shocked by the conditions. However, she did eventually speak up. "The police station is that way." She said, pointing to a large sign.

"Alright. I saw a building down this hill - I want to search it for supplies first." Percy responded. The building in question seemed abandoned - a faded sign above the large door denoted it as "the Graveyard Shift". Percy shoved open the door, and he entered with China Broom drawn.

It used to be a bar, clearly. The place had been abandoned awhile ago - the tables and chairs were all considerable old and crumbled, the only light seen was streaming in through the windows. The old bar didn't seem to have much in the way of supplies.

Percy pulled an old cigarette lighter out of his pocket and clicked it on. It was a classic style lighter that he'd acquired in his Pinkerton days during a raid on a labor union. Percy wasn't a big smoker minus the occasional cigar with employers after a good job, but he always carried it with him. And now he was lucky that he had. He found a few candles behind the desk, and soon they had light.

Elizabeth was standing against the wall, clearly confused. "What are we doing here?"

"Well, we aren't on a deadline." Percy explained, setting the candles on the main bar. "We might as well get some rest, right? This place seems as good as any."

"This place is... a bit dirtier than I expected." She said honestly. "But I'm not complaining."

"Let's check the basement to see what we can find down there." Percy suggested, grabbing a candle. Elizabeth picked up a lantern from under a stool and clicked it on. It amazingly still had fluid, and it crackled to life, creating brilliant light. More effective that the candles, anyway. The room seemed to be one hundred percent devoid of all supplies, now that it was illuminated clearly enough to see the whole place. "Let's switch." Percy suggested.

"Why?"

"Because what if there's a policeman down there? I don't like the idea of shooting a gun with an open flame in my other hand."

"Point taken." Percy took a hold of the lantern and crept down the stairs with his Broadsider in hand. "You know what? Keep checking out the main room, and any others you find. Yell if you need me."

Elizabeth nodded, so Percy crept down the basement stairs. His broad light illuminated the area, revealing that the room was mostly empty. Many broken crates dotted the area, along with another lantern, which Percy lit. Then he found something interesting.

A guitar. He could play guitar. _I wonder..._

Percy shook the idea out of his mind and continued scavenging for supplies, pawing through broken crates and checking corner to make sure that no walking corpses suddenly sprang out at him. This place was pretty thoroughly looted. And there were no bugs or rats or anything else around. Staying down here wouldn't be so bad.

He grabbed the guitar and stashed it behind a barrel so he could surprise Elizabeth with it later. He then heard a call from upstairs: "Percy! Come look what I found!"

The former Pinkerton dashed up the stairs, leaving his lantern behind. He followed the girl's voice to a room behind the bar, where she was looking at a locked cabinet. "Should I open it?" She asked.

"Go ahead."

Elizabeth got out her hairpin and began to fiddle with the lock. "Did you find anything downstairs?" She asked.

"Not really. But I think that down there is where we should take our rest. There's a smaller chance of being found down there." She nodded back, as she finally cracked open the cabinet. "Is that... canned food?" Percy asked.

Four cans were stashed in the cabinet, all of which were unopened. "Who would put food in a can?" Elizabeth asked.

"It keeps the food fresh. And, no, I don't know how it works." Elizabeth passed the cans along to Percy. "'Jeremiah Fink presents: baked beans with tomato sauce.' Well, I guess that makes dinner." All four cans were dated 1911. It was definitely safe to eat.

* * *

"I could see it on your face earlier - you used to live in a place like this, didn't you?"

Percy ate some more of his lukewarm beans, which they'd attempted to heat using candles and lanterns. Elizabeth managed to find a single fork, which they shared. They were hungry enough that Percy was certain that they'd get through at least two of the cans.

They sat on the basement floor, with the candles in the center of the room. They were sitting up against the wall next to each other, passing the can back and forth. Percy thought about her question as he passed the can onto her. She took it gratefully. "I did live in a place this once."

"Why?" She asked, her mouth full of beans.

Percy sighed and rubbed his forehead. The memories there were foggy at best. "Back when Annabeth and I first lived on our own, we didn't have anything. We could only afford a small tenement in the Five Points, down in Lower Manhattan. Mulberry Bend. The worst slum in the whole city."

"Why were you and Annabeth living on your own?"

The older man accepted the can back. "I... don't rightly remember. Our parents didn't like us being together - my father and her mother, chiefly. We only stayed in Mulberry Bend for a little while until I could afford the office on Bowery. But it was awful."

She looked at him expectantly, as if wanting more explanation. "The place was very much like Shantytown. Except more violent. They were gang fights all the time between the Bottle Alley Gang and the Baxter Street Boys. We were only there for a few months, and I feared for me and my girlfriend's life everyday."

"This woman, Annabeth... what was she like?"

"She had blond hair that she always wore in a ponytail. Her eyes were a beautiful grey." Percy tried his best to focus his memory on her. "Her and I were different in almost every way. Friends since we were little kids. She was temperamental, stubborn, and she had extreme pride."

Percy enjoyed another forkful of beans and passed the can back to Elizabeth. "So why did you fall in love with her? If she was so different than you."

"We were like two parts of the same person. Without me, she would go crazy, thinking that she could change the world. She needed me to calm her down, to tell her that she wasn't immortal. I needed her..." Percy sighed. "I needed her so I wouldn't turn into this. I was always reckless. She could keep me in line. Were she still around, I wouldn't have accumulated debt in the first place."

Elizabeth looked at the ground. "My books all tell of love that was based around beauty and feats of valor. Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Antony, Paris and Helen."

Percy scoffed. "It's all nonsense. You want to see a story of real love? Read the Odyssey, or the story of Orpheus."

"You know of the Greek myths? I didn't think you were the type."

Percy struggled to remember... "Yeah. When I was a teenager, I think."

"Oh." Elizabeth scooped up another mouthful of beans. "So good looks doesn't have anything to do with love?"

"Beauty means nothing in the grand scheme of things. Annabeth was gorgeous, of course, but that would've meant nothing if I didn't... I don't know, love her, I guess."

"Yeah, but why did you _love _her?" She was clearly confused by his illogical explanation.

"I just did. It's indescribable, really. You'll know it when you feel it. You'd do well to remember that when you start courting boys."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, passing the can back over to Percy. "We've almost eaten this one. Should we open up another?"

"Sure. We can't really take them along with us, can we?" He grabbed his Skyhook and used one of it's blades to cut a rough hole into the top. Percy finished off the first can before they got started on the next.

They sat there in silence for awhile, passing the beans back in forth, enjoying each other's company. Before Percy knew it, that can was gone too.

"So... what we are going to do for bedding?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm not sure. Did they have a mattress upstairs anywhere?" Elizabeth shook her head. "I couldn't find one down here either. Guess we'll have to make do with the floor."

Elizabeth yawned before curling up into a ball near the candles. Percy cursed, remembering something. He shot to his feet, startling the younger girl. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He reached his arm behind a barrel to pull out the acoustic guitar. Elizabeth's eyes lit up. "Can you play?" She asked excitedly.

Percy nodded, examining the beauty. He sat down next to Elizabeth, in a way so that they could still look at each other. All the strings were still attached. He plucked a few notes to get a feel for it, then tuned it to his liking. "I think it was back in 1897 when I first learned." He said finally. "A Pinkerton buddy of mine, Darcy, taught me how to play. I'm not very good, but-"

"I'd love to her you play," Elizabeth said wistfully.

Percy only nodded before plucking out a few more notes. He struggled back to remember a song that he knew... Darcy was a religious man, a few years younger than Percy. Darcy gave him lessons off working hours, and the two had become decent friends. The young man was black, and some of the men in the Pinkertons had a similar mindset to Comstock. Darcy was just happy to have a friend, as was Percy.

They'd stopped talking after Percy was fired in 1901. But he could still remember the man's words. _This song helped me get over my mother's death, Jackson. Whenever you're feeling down about Annabeth, play this. _Percy smiled at the memory. And there was a chance that Elizabeth might know the song too.

Percy began to strum out the song. He knew it by heart - it was such a simple song, but so nice at the same time. What caught him by surprise was when Elizabeth joined in.

_There are loved ones in the glory,_

_Whose dear forms you often miss;_

_When you close your earthly story,_

_Will you join them in their bliss?_

Percy smiled broadly. Elizabeth was good - really good. She had a great voice.

_Will the circle be unbroken_

_By and by, by and by?_

_Is a better home awaiting_

_In the sky, in the sky?_

_You can picture happy gath'rings_

_'Round the fireside long ago,_

_And you think of tearful partings,_

_When they left you here below._

_Will the circle be unbroken_

_By and by, by and by?_

_Is a better home awaiting_

_In the sky, in the sky?_

Percy blinked away a stray tear that was forming at the edge of his eye. Dammit; it had been awhile since he'd played this song and even longer since he'd thought about the lyrics. Elizabeth started getting misty-eyed too. By the end of the chorus, she'd nearly lost her composure.

_One by one their seats were emptied,  
_  
_And one by one they went away;  
_  
_Now the family is parted,  
_  
_Will it be complete one day?_

_Will the circle be unbroken_

_By and by, by and by?_

_Is a better home awaiting_

_In the sky, in the sky?_

The song ended, so Percy set aside his guitar. He realized that his attempts were in vain - the rough-and-tough badass killing machine who'd taken hundreds of lives in forty eight hours, was crying silent tears. Elizabeth got up from her spot at the fire and sat in his lap. She started to cry tears of sympathy to cry into his vest.

Percy held her and stroked her hair until her breathing calmed down again. "I'm so sorry, Percy... about Annabeth... about... everything..."

"You've nothing to be sorry for." Percy mumbled back. He'd regained his composure, but he was still content to hold Elizabeth. She was keeping him sane through all of this. Without Elizabeth there with him, would he be able to do this seemingly endless journey? Most likely not.

Percy thought about his own words to the girl about love; two parts that made one whole. Was this girl ever going to be Annabeth? No. It wasn't the same kind of love - this was the sort of love Percy thought a man might have for his daughter. But damn if it didn't feel great all the same.

Elizabeth shifted in his arms again, getting comfortable. After a few mere seconds, she was asleep. Percy kissed her forehead and muttered, "Goodnight, kid." He was sitting in a decently comfortable position, so he stayed that way and shut his eyes. He soon drifted off towards the land of dreams.

* * *

**I had an absolute blast writing this chapter. I just sat in my chair for like four hours and... wrote. I went into this chapter wanting the guitar scene to happen, but I didn't really expect it to go the way that it did. But I love the final product. Like, a lot. I'm currently sketching out Elizabeth and Percy sitting against the wall during the bean-eating scene; perhaps I'll put it on my profile if it goes well.**

**Anyways. As long as you guys keep reading, I'll keep writing. Drop a favorite/follow and if you're so inclined a review? Those motivate me more than anything.**

**Face Hugz, **

**Professor Marmalade AKA the Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


	13. Thirteen: A Forest Before the Fire

**The beginning of this chapter contains some old-timey words. A little glossary for those of you who aren't well-acquainted with 1800s slang (and I'd be incredibly impressed if you are):**

**all-overish: feeling ill**

**cock robin: a man who is soft or easy**

**backgammon player: ...shall we say, a man who enjoys the company of another man**

* * *

_I had thought you a fool, dear brother. When you told me that you heard wonderful music trumpetting from holes in the thin air. I began to doubt your mental integrity. But not only have you made your fortune from these doodads, you have lit the path for me as well._

-Jeremiah Fink, August 12th, 1894

* * *

The dream was different this time.

The place was a club of some kind - the music was a bit too loud, the air was full of cigarette smoke, and the people were mostly black-skinned or red-headed. Percy knew where he was immediately - Almack's Dancing Club. 67 Orange Street.

It was a true dancing club wedged in between all the brothels and criminal activity. The Five Points area of Manhattan - Mulberry Bend in particular - tended to be full of both Irish second-generation immigrants and free blacks, whose dancing styles intermingled. It was here where Master Juba had gotten his start back in the 1840s. That was something that the owner of the joint, Dawson Williams, flaunted regularly.

Dawson was an older black man who'd inherited the club from his father, Pete. It was still called Pete Williams's Place by the club-goers, despite the change in ownership. Percy remembered respecting Dawson a lot - he'd taken in Percy when he was desperate, given him a job.

The dream finally displayed Past-Percy, who seemed around the same age as the last dream, although his facial hair was getting a bit too thick for his taste. The man was on break - he sat in a chair in the corner by himself, sipping at a Coca-Cola. It seemed as if Past-Percy hadn't been corrupted by the "devil's nectar" just yet.

"Hey, Jackson!" Came a voice. Up to his secluded table ambled Dawson Williams, who relied heavily on his cane for support. "You interested in making some extra money, kid?"

Past-Percy sat straight-up immediately. "What've you got in mind, Dawson?"

"Old Ferguson behind the bar was sneaking drinks, and now he's feeling all-overish. Damn fool drank too much," Dawson chuckled, readjusting his cane grip. "You're the only one on break right now, my boy. Do you know how to serve drinks?"

"I... no, I don't."

"Well, you'd better learn fast." The old man reached out to touch his shoulder. "I know you and your lady friend are in a bad way, kid. I'm tryin' to help you out here!"

"Everyone else around here in a bad way too." Past-Percy waved his arm around in a broad sense. "Why've you taken an interest in me? What about Lynch? Aiken? Hell, even McAlistair."

"Because you're the only white employee." Dawson said seriously. "All the others are negroes and Irishmen. Kid, you're going to get eaten up in the Bend if you can't make a name for yourself."

"I'm only here on a temporary basis." Past-Percy insisted. "The interview with the Pinkertons is in eleven weeks. I'm going to get that job, and then I'm getting out of here." Percy took a long drink of his soda.

"You don't sound too sure that you'll get it."

Past-Percy rubbed his forehead. "Is it that obvious?" He rose to his feet groggily. "How much money are we talking about here?"

"Double the usual rate. Plus tips."

"Done."

* * *

"Jackson's lookin' like less the cock robin and more the rogue by the day, isn't he, lads?" Burke complemented.

The club had recently closed for the evening, and Percy was tidying up behind the counter, cleaning glasses and mopping up spills. Past-Percy had proven himself to be a decent enough bartender, it seemed. At least, enough to take Ferguson's place full-time.

The other workers at the bar - a few Irishmen and black men, were also cleaning up. At the moment, Burke, McAlistair, and Moran - all of which were redheads, and all friends of around twenty years old - were chatting with Past-Percy.

"Ferguson was a right back gammon player. I'm glad Jackson's gotten him sacked." McAlistair responded back with a grin on his face. The trio all began to crack up laughing. Past-Percy merely shook his head.

"I'm still not as good as Ferguson was. Dawson just likes me." He responded back with.

"You're damn good enough. Unless you'd like to give up that pretty position you've got back there?" Moran suggested.

"No. I'm keeping it. Nice try though." Past-Percy drew his mop over to the left side of the are behind the counter.

"Oi, Moran! He needs the money." Burke cut in jokingly. "He's got a proper lady back at his flat. Better than the whores we muck about with."

"A blonde woman in the Five Points!" Moran pointed out with glee. "Jackson's got himself a real woman - a nice white girl."

"Well, he _is _white. With a name like Jackson he's bound to be English. Right?"

Past-Percy shook his head. "Nope. Mostly Scottish, with some Bavarian and Portuguese blood too."

Moran whistled. "You're ancestors certainly were people of the night, weren't they? They got all around the world!"

A man walked in through the door. He was in late twenties at the least - older than any of the workers in the club. "Come here, you tossers!" He said excitedly to the Irishmen. "You remember that girl at the Red Heart you were rabbiting on about last week, Burke? She's working tonight at half-rate."

The three young men looked at Past-Percy hopefully. He rolled his eyes. "I won't tell Dawson."

"Thanks, Jackson!"

"You really are a proper mate, you know that?"

The Irish walked out of the club, leaving only Past-Percy, Lynch, Calvin, and Aiken. Lynch was an Irishmen in his middle twenties who tended to hang around more with blacks. Calvin and Aiken were brothers - both tall, wiry, and dark-skinned. These were the only workers who were regularly addressed by first names around here - only Dawson knew what Percy's first name was.

"How's Ferguson doing?" Past-Percy asked, concern on his face.

"He'll be fine. He found work in a a whorehouse nearby. He's not angry." Aiken assured him.

"Good." Past-Percy set his mop up on a rack, satisfied with his work. "I was worried. I mean, with his kids, and..."

Aiken shook his head. "Don't you worry about it, Jackson. Just be glad you were chosen as his replacement."

"Aye. You're a lucky son of a bitch." Lynch commented.

Past-Percy set his jaw and nodded slightly. He leaned forward onto the bar so he could look at his co-workers better. "So what is tomorrow? Sunday? I've lost track."

"Yep. Aiken, we should get going soon. We've got church at dawn." Calvin reminded his brother

Aiken nodded. "This place looks clean enough to me. Lynch! You should come to church with us in the mornin'."

Lynch vehemently shook his head no. "I'm Protestant."

"How about you, Jackson? You and your lady ought to come."

Past-Percy scratched his stubble. "I don't know. We aren't exactly religious."

"There's never a better time to accept God, especially with how things are here in the Bend," Aiken said, gesturing widely. "It doesn't matter if you aren't baptized. Father Nathaniel doesn't care a bit."

The past version of Percy looked at the floor. The spectating Percy saw a glint of something in his face - a vengeful expression. "You know what? It'd probably do us some good to get out of the flat."

"There you go! The church is at 45th Orange. Mass starts at sunrise."

Past-Percy nodded and put on his flat cap before heading out into the rainy night. Just before the vision fizzled out, the spectating Percy could've sworn that he'd seen an unsettling smirk on his past self's face.

* * *

Percy woke up.

His vision came into focus, and he could see that Elizabeth was still sleeping. Percy had ended up on his back - the girl was latched onto him, and she was snoring softly. Percy delicately untangled their limbs and lied Elizabeth down on the floor, trying not to wake her.

He sat in a nearby chair and picked up the guitar again. He needed to clear his head from the dream - it was like somebody - some_thing? _- was showing him parts of his memory that he'd... forgotten. Was that the right word?

He slowly strummed out the notes to "Will the Circle Be Unbroken", trying his best not to wake his companion up. He played it slowly and softly - a bit more sad than the version he'd played last night, but it still felt good. He remembered what he briefly thought last night about the two of them... how could a girl like her ever accept an old killer like him as family? Still, he couldn't give up hope.

Within a few minutes, Elizabeth finally awoke. She stretched before looking at him. "Good morning." He said softly, before setting aside the guitar. "Sleep well?"

"Well enough, I guess." She said softly. Her eyes betrayed that notion.

"Nightmare?" He asked. "I've had plenty enough of 'em to know when someone's had one. What was it about?"

Elizabeth shuddered. "It was... it didn't have anything to do with me. It had to do with you."

Percy sat up. "What?"

"I saw... over and over again... you being killed. In different ways, every time." She wasn't crying, thank god. But she was clearly upset. "What if... what I was seeing other universes? What if-"

"Hey. I'm fine. And I'm the only Percy Jackson that matters." He said, before scratching his head. "That sounds conceited, eh? Either way, we still have a job to do, Liz."

She nodded. "You're right. Let's... let's go."

Percy got up and geared up, putting his weapons on his back and into his holsters. Elizabeth handed him his Skyhook, which he clipped onto his belt. "Onward to the police impound, then." Percy said, while Elizabeth took his left hand.

"I'm ready when you are."

* * *

"Alright... I think they're gone." Percy said, holstering his handcannon.

They'd run into a pretty big battle out in front of the impound. At least twenty or so Founders had been present, as well as two Motorized Patriots. The only way to navigate the environment was via Skyrail, so Percy was absolutely exhausted and nearly out of ammunition.

He sat down on the stairs to the impound, panting. Elizabeth dismounted from the Skyrail, landing next to Percy. She sat on the stair next to Percy. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just old." Percy stretched his arms back. "Too old for this job. Ah, it's nothing. I need to get looting."

"No - it's fine. I'll do it." She stood up. "I'll bring you back all the guns I find. And then you can... do your thing."

Percy normally wouldn't have gone with it, but he was tired enough to agree. He nodded breathlessly. "Stay in my eyesight, and don't do too far." She nodded, before jumping back up on the Skyrail.

She returned back moments later, with two Broadsiders and three shotguns in her arms. "Thanks." Percy muttered, as he began to emptying the weapons. Elizabeth sat next to him, humming a something that sounded a bit familiar..

"Percy?"

"Yep?"

"Have you heard of the song "God Only Knows"? By The Bee Sharps?"

Percy nodded, lever cranking his China Broom. "As a matter of fact, I have. Back at the fair, two days ago."

"Isn't it just lovely?"

The former Pinkerton shrugged. "It sounded nice enough, I suppose. Not a huge fan of quartets."

"Its words remind me of what you said last night about Annabeth."

Percy looked at her, with an eyebrow raised. The younger girl was choosing her words carefully, worried about upsetting him. "Really? What's it about?"

"I'll tell you later. Now, come on!" Elizabeth grabbed Percy's hand and dragged him towards the impound. Thankfully, the place seemed abandoned.

"Well... If the Good Time Club taught me anything it's that Columbians like putting things in basements. Let's check down there."

As predicted, a huge pile of complex-looking tools were chained up in the cellar of the police building. The only thing between them and Paris was a locked door, which Elizabeth started picking at. "So who do you think that we're really helping by getting these gun for the Vox?"

"Us." Percy said. "And right now, I only care about us."

"I think it'll help more than just us." Elizabeth said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "If Daisy Fitzroy gets these guns, she can make a change. She can life for all these people down here better!"

Percy pinched his nose. Elizabeth had real feeling for those in Shantytown. "Guns can't really help people, Elizabeth. They can only make a person alive or dead. I know that more than anyone else."

Elizabeth opened the door wordlessly, clearly not interested in agitating her any further. As they strode into the lockup, Percy realized with a start that everything was wrong.

"There's way too much crap here to move." Percy said in realization. "We can't just... we can't just carry this pile of stuff here all the way back to Finkton."

"We didn't think this through." Elizabeth said in a low voice.

The ex-Pinkerton kicked a piece of machinery. "Now what are we going to do?"

Elizabeth suddenly gasped. "Look!"

Percy noticed a Tear directly in front of the pile. "You've got to be kidding me." He said to himself in disbelief. "Again?"

"It's a version of this room with no guns in it... so that means they must be-"

"Back at the shop!" They both exclaimed at the same time.

"We have to go through!" Elizabeth said excitedly.

Percy rubbed his forehead. He really... really didn't want to do this again, after what happened last time. He nodded. "I suppose we do. Here's hoping I'm not dead in this universe too."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she remembered Percy's last episode. "You should lay down. I'll wait here with you until you... come back."

The older man nodded, sliding his guns off and laying flat on his back. He took a deep breath. "Ready."

* * *

He was now watching the world through a different Percy Jackson's eyes.

The place... it was Monument Island. But... it felt... different...

Percy pushed open the door to the Siphon. But the place... it was dark. No energy crackled from the Siphon. No singing girl's voice was heard. The place was cold.

He gripped his machine gun and sighed. Huh. This version of Percy had a different taste in weaponry... weird, but not as pertinent as the fact that Elizabeth seemed to be absent. This couldn't be good.

He rode up the elevator arriving in some sort of observation area. there was a large lever, so of course Percy cranked it without considering circumstances. These... windows, he supposed, opened up, revealing an empty bedroom. Just like last time.

Percy went to the room with a board labeled "Specimen Tracker". He pushed the button.

The alert read **SPECIMEN NOT PRESENT.**

He punched the machine out of frustration. "Where could she...?"

And then Songbird screeched.

* * *

"And just exactly why did you come here, Jackson? We don't get a whole lotta white folk lookin' to sign up for the Vox."

The dream had shifted, this time to a place that was entirely new. He wasn't exactly sure where he was. But Daisy Fitzroy was leaned up against the wall, with a slight smirk on her face. The room they were in was small and completely abandoned, save for the two of them.

Percy merely held up his right first, showing her the AJ. "I'm trying to find the girl... the one Comstock calls the Lamb. You know, up the huge tower?" Oh, right. Without speaking to Elizabeth, Percy wouldn't've known her name.

Fitzroy frowned. "She'd be up in that tower o' gold, like you just said."

The ex-Pinkerton shook his head. "No. Monument Island is a ghost town. She isn't there. They must have evacuated her as soon as they heard about me."

_Oh..._

"Ah. So you need some help against ol' Comstock to get this girl." Fitzroy took a drink out of a flask. "You know where she is now?"

"No. But if I had the help of an entire army, such as the Vox Populi..." Percy said slowly.

Fitzroy narrowed her eyebrows. "Say I were to do this, 'False Shepard'. What could you have in return that could evenly pay me back?"

Percy stood up and approached her. "I was in the Pinkertons for years. I know my way around a gun. I can do whatever you need me to do, as long we get the girl at the end. AND transportation to New York."

"Well, we don't have..." Fitzroy balked. She pulled something out of her pocket. "Actually... we do. There's a man up in the white part of the city - old Cornelius Slate. He could be a powerful ally... and he hates Comstock. Maybe even more than you or I do."

"What do I have to do?" Percy asked wearily.

Fitzroy smiled. "You'll find the old man in the Hall of Heroes, up in Soldier's Field. My men can bring you there via a gunship. Convince him to join our cause."

"Why haven't you sent any of your Vox to recruit Slate?"

"Because I don't want to risk their deaths. No... if you want the girl so bad, you'll take up this offer. Slate's got a private army up there. Running in there flying the Vox banners is a dumb thing to do, since he doesn't know of our... mutual interest yet."

Percy only nodded. "What then? After I get Slate on board."

There was a dangerous fire in Fitzroy's eyes. "We've got an arms deal going on down in Finkton right now - Chen Lin is making Repeaters by the dozen. Once we have Slate and all of his men... we're ready to take Comstock House."

He looked at the revolutionary as if she were crazy. "You're just going to kick down the front door?"

"You bet. Once Comstock lies dead, and you've played your part... I can start looking for this girl of yours." Fitzroy stuck out her hand. "Partners?"

Percy took it, feeling uneasy. "Partners."

"Welcome to the Vox Populi, brother."

* * *

The scene shifted again - this time, to an ally somewhere in Soldier's Field.

Percy was leaning against a barrel, eating a sandwich that didn't look all too fresh. As he ate, a figure appeared at one end of the ally in plain sight. He wore a broad hat and carried a revolver. "False Shepard!" He cried, firing a shot.

The ex-Pinkerton dove behind cover. "Father Comstock demands your death! Yours, along with Fitzroy."

"Yeah? Well, he ain't gettin' it!" Percy extended an Undertow tentacle, grabbing the man, which made him drop his gun. Percy pulled him forward slowly.

"Let go of me, you son of a bitch! What're you-" Percy stuck him to the ground, binding him to it with small Undertow chains of water. "What're you doing?"

"What is your name?" Percy asked, pointing the assassin's revolver at it's owner.

The man flinched. "Downs! Preston E. Downs!"

"You were hired by Comstock to kill me?" He asked, keeping his voice level.

"Yes!"

A boy ambled around the corner. "Preston!" He called out. He was probably eleven or twelve.

Percy only glanced at the child. "And who is that?"

Downs took a deep breath. "He's a Greek kid I've been looking after. I... I caught him in a bear trap, I just barely managed to save the leg." It was true - the boy was walking with a heavy limp. "He used to be a Vox courier, before... yeah."

"Greek, you said?"

The assassin nodded. "He doesn't know a lick of English."

Percy nodded, before kneeling in front of the little boy. "What's your name?" He calmly asked.

"Konstantinos."

Downs gave Percy a bewildered look. "You can speak Greek?"

Oh... Percy could speak Greek? No wonder the boy had comprehended the question. "Yes, I can, Preston." He transitioned back to English, so Downs would actually understand what he was saying. "Funny... you were hired by Comstock to kill me and Fitzroy, but then you take in a kid who can't speak English?"

"I wasn't going to let him bleed out." Downs insisted.

Percy turned his attention back to the boy, and switched to Greek. "Konstantinos... can you tell why you became a courier for the Vox?"

"Father and mother both worked at the Finkton factories, because they couldn't get jobs anywhere else. One day, mother got into an argument with the foreman. He killed her." Percy relayed all of this back to Downs, whose eyes were widening. "Father was fired. We needed extra money to keep eating. So I run letters for the Vox. Populi."

"Anything else?"

"I used to work in the factory too, like most of the other kids. I had to work sixteen hour days, and we got no breaks. If I was a minute late, complained about anything, or left a minute before I was allowed to... I was beaten. Some of my friends were killed."

Percy translated this verbally to Downs. "Why don't you work there anymore?" The assassin asked the boy. Percy put the question into Greek and posed it to Konstantinos.

"A year ago, they told me to stamp in the bolts on vending machines. And I did. But I got my hand in the way once." Konstantinos displayed his left hand, which had precisely four fingers. "They fired me for it."

When Percy was done with the language conversion, Preston E. Downs looked angry. "Where are you going next, Jackson?"

"Hall of Heroes. We're getting Cornelius Slate; once me and Fitzroy have his support, then we're off for Comstock House." Percy couldn't control his speech, so he wasn't sure why he just told the man who was contracted to kill him where his next location would be.

"You could use another gun, right?" He asked weakly. "I now... I now realize..."

"Sure, Preston. But swear to me that you won't turn on me in the middle of a fight."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Because you're my best shot at taking down Comstock and Fink. I need to... I need to show them what they're doing ain't right." Percy nodded, unlocking his watery bounds. True to his word, the assassin got up and did nothing hostile. Satisfied, Percy handed the man his revolver back. "Tell the boy... Konstantinos, I mean, to wait until this is all finished."

* * *

The next thirty minutes or so was roughly what Percy though he remembered - taking the Hall of Heroes. But this time... something was different.

Whenever Percy and Preston Downs came across some of Slate's men, Percy merely immobilized him with Undertow. The spectating Percy felt a pang of guilt - he could've easily done the same thing - but he hadn't. He'd gone in guns-blazing. But this Percy hadn't.

When they finally reached Slate, the old man roared. "What've you done, Jackson! You're too much of a coward to kill? Is that it?"

Downs shook his head. "No. We've come here for other reasons."

Percy pulled a small slip of paper out of his vest pocket and held it up for Slate to see. "Vox Populi... Daisy Fitzroy..." Slate murmured to himself. "You're here to try and make me fight for the coloreds, is that it?"

"It's not just!-"

"Preston." Percy cut him off, keeping his voice level. He then turned back to the old veteran. "Every man in this room right now isn't colored, and we all want to fight the Prophet just the same. So does Fitzroy. All the Vox Populi need to begin their attack on Comstock is more men."

Slate stared at the ex-Pinkerton coldly. "I want my men to have a soldier's death. How can they -"

"Forget about this petty 'honor' bullshit, Slate!" Preston shouted. "Your little army hates Comstock as much as we do. If they're so set on dying, at least have it be for a good cause."

"And what about you, Downs? I heard you were hired by Comstock to kill this 'False Shepard' and Daisy Fitzroy."

"I've changed my mind," was all Downs said in retaliation.

Percy finally holstered his Broadsider, offering a hand to Slate. "Your men would gladly die with your words, when not make their deaths meaningful? Think about what we can accomplish with Comstock out of the way."

Slate took a deep breath before taking Percy's hand. "Alright, Jackson. I'll play nice - for now. But before we go down to the jungle -" Percy groaned in anticipation of more tasks to complete. "-you're going to help me burn this place to the ground."

"Done."

* * *

"All right, the explosives are set!"

Percy, Preston, and Slate had swept through the museum, jerry-rigging a chain that would set the whole building on fire. They'd found some kerosene for good measure. Percy had let Slate's men free of their bonds, and now the couple hundred men were waiting outside.

The three in charge stood closest to the building, with a trail of gunpowder ending at Percy's feet. "Men! Today, we show Comstock what happens when you mess with Slate's men!" Slate cried. A cheer went up in the crowd as Percy bent down to light the trail.

The cheering continued to nearly earsplitting levels. As the building caught fire, Percy found his face work it's way into a smile. He was doing to right thing, and even this version of Percy knew it.

But then, suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, a young boy appeared in the window. "Preston!" He cried.

"Downs! Look!" Percy cried, pointing at the kid. It was Konstantinos, clearly.

"My God..." the assassin said. "I told him to stay put! We have to get him out of there!"

And Percy was already darting into the museum.

He dodged falling rubble as he made his way up to the stairs, coughing from the smoke. The place hadn't even really begun to smolder yet, but it was dangerous enough. The boy was till in the window, and Percy scooped him up in his arms. "Come on. We're getting out of here." He muttered to the boy in Greek.

"Thank you."

The museum began to fall apart in earnest as Percy dashed out of the building. He thought he was in the clear when he noticed that a pile of smoldering wreckage was blocking the main exit. Percy cursed. He couldn't use Undertow, because he was holding the boy. And the fire was closing in on all sides. So he did something stupid.

Percy shielded the boy with his own body and forced his way through the burning debris.

He screamed in pain as he emerged back to the outside. The burns... all over his face and arms... he was dying. But the boy was okay.

"Oh god... Jackson!" Downs cried, as Percy collapsed to the pavement. The crowd fell silent.

The men fell silent as Percy struggled for his last breaths. "Get me... a voxaphone..." He pleaded to the assassin.

A recording device was soon given to Percy, who pressed a button. He coughed up some blood before saying, "Fitzroy... you win this war, and then you send this thing to New York... because they ain't gettin' the girl. Whoever they are-" he winced in pain, as he could feel his life fade, "Maybe I did right by... by you and the Vox, but in the end... that doesn't square anything." Percy coughed up some blood. He was nearly... "Anna... Anna, I'm sorry..."


	14. Fourteen: Jackson, Hero of the Vox

_"These holes have shown me yet another wonder, though I've yet to see the application for it. They illuminate a merger of machine and man that is somehow the lesser, yet the greater, of both parties. The process seems to be irreversible. Perhaps, though, Comstock will have some need of this kind of thing to keep watch in that tower of his."_

-Jeremiah Fink, October 4th, 1895

* * *

Percy awoke to the real world.

Elizabeth held him in her lap again like last time, but this time she wasn't crying. She was merely looking straight forward, at the door - as if she was worried someone would come though.

"Hey." Percy said, his voice weak. He didn't have full control over his body - just like last time. He could barely move his mouth.

"Oh, thank god. It's been two hours." His companion said, clearly scared. "What did you see this time?"

Percy took a deep breath. He spent a few minutes regaling the story of how he teamed up with Fitzroy, to how he recruited Preston Downs, and then how he died burning down the Hall of Heroes. Elizabeth looked at him intently while he explained.

"The Vox already has weapons - and they think that I'm dead." Percy said. He finally felt his limbs come back to life, so he struggled into a sitting position, next to Elizabeth. "I thought the twins told us that Fitzroy always WANTS guns; what happens if she already has them?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well... we might be taking the airship without asking." Percy rose to his feet slowly, gathering up his weapons. He offered his hand to the girl, who took it gratefully.

"Do you hear that?" She suddenly asked.

Percy strained his ears, and heard a faint chant. _Vox, Vox, Vox! _"Seems like the revolution's begun in earnest. Let's get out there."

"The people here are going to have better lives! It's going to be like _Les Miserables."_

"Don't a lot of guys die in that story?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "That's not the point!" An explosion rang out, causing Percy's ears to pang. "Daisy Fitzroy's moved these people! Things _can_ change, Percy- and we can be a part of it!"

The two began to walk out, happy to find the impound still abandoned. "I don't want to be a part of it, kid. I'm tired of getting shot at all the time."

As if on cue, Percy opened the door to a wall of gunfire. He quickly took care of them with Bucking Bronco and a shotgun blast, before ducking behind cover. Elizabeth did the same, looking distressed. "I think you're right. I'm sick of this too." She said, panting.

The area outside of the impound was a full-blown battleground. Red-clad Vox Populi soldiers were in even numbers as the blue and grey Columbian army. The battle raged on the Skyrails. It was truly unlike anything Percy had ever seen. And he really didn't want to get involved.

Screw it.

* * *

Thankfully the Vox Populi hadn't murdered him on sight.

As soon as Percy had entered the fray and pointed his Carbine at the Founders, the Vox had decided that the ex-Pinkerton either wasn't worth the trouble or that he was a friendly. Eventually Percy managed to escape out of the impound warzone, and he dashed back into Shantytown.

That was when Percy first saw the poster.

On the side of a building was poster with a similar art style to other Vox propaganda... but this one was him. Percy held his right fist triumphantly in the air while he looked on straight-faced. **Jackson! Martyr of the Revolution! **was the caption.

A nearby Vox Populi soldier - a younger Irishman - looked from Percy to the poster and then back. "My god... you're Percy Jackson! The hero of the Vox!"

Oh.

"It seems like your... death was turned into a rallying cry." Elizabeth said in wonder, looking up at the propaganda.

The newly-branded martyr shut his eyes. "Yeah. Like I said... it's like I have... two memories in the same place, I... I can't..."

"Percy, come back to me." Elizabeth said, her voice and eyes full of concern. "We're going to see Fitzroy, remember?"

"And then we're going to Paris on the First Lady..." Percy grabbed Elizabeth's hand, needing her support to stay sane. "Yeah. I remember. Let's go."

The two continued through Shantytown past a mass execution of captured Founders. All around them, explosives rocked the city, destroying Fink company signs and causing buildings to fall out of the sky. Rather unsurprisingly, Elizabeth began to dislike the situation more and more.

"I want to leave, Percy." She muttered to him.

"So do I. Come on, let's get moving faster."

The traveling partners made it to the main part of Shantytown, where a crowd of hundreds of Vox soldiers stood cheering. An airship flew into view, and a PA system crackled to life. "That's the First Lady, Percy! Our airship!" Elizabeth said in distress.

**"Percy Jackson died for this day!" **Fitzroy's voice bellowed.** "It was HE spoke the one true voice of the people! Now is the time to stand true to his cause! We can't let his sacrifice go without payback!" **The crowd roared. **"Fink must fall! Now, my fellow man, we make our way to the factory! For Percy Jackson! For the people! We aren't just going to burn it down - we're going to pull it up from the roots!"**

Percy felt blood slip out of his nose, which he wiped away. "Goddammit... I want to get out of this city so damn badly..."

Elizabeth looked at him with concern. "You're going to be fine. That Percy Jackson doesn't matter, like you said - _my_ Percy Jackson does. And we're going to Paris."

He nodded slightly. "Yeah. Let's go."

They made their way to the elevator back up to Finkton. Percy slumped against the side of the elevator, nearly falling over. His head throbbed so hard... hard to think... "Percy!" His partner cried in distress, grabbing him. She wrapped him in a tight hug. "You're not going anywhere."

Percy shook his head, as if trying to unscramble it. "Fitzroy did with me what Comstock did with you. She's no better than him."

The two continued their embrace for another minute, appreciating each other's presences. Again, his thoughts shot back to what he said about love - two parts, making a whole. Without Elizabeth... he would end up dying, just like the martyr Percy had. She kept him grounded to the world - kept him from going crazy.

Finally, Elizabeth pulled away an gave Percy a warm look. "So... we did it!"

"Yep."

The girl looked down at her pinky, he face falling a bit. "I'm not sure if I brought us to a world where the Vox had weapons, or... I created it."

Percy furrowed his brow. "You can do that?"

"I'm not sure."

* * *

Finkton was also a warzone, but Percy had no trouble navigating it, thanks to some handy Tears from his partner. The Founders were cleared out of the area in no time at all, so the path to the gunsmith was open.

Percy pushed open the door, half-hoping to receive a warm greeting from Mr. and Mrs. Lin. But, of course, he wasn't that lucky.

The door to the workshop was blocked off by debris, and in front of the debris was the interracial couple, a pool of blood. "No... no no no no no!" Elizabeth said in horror. "This is not what I meant to have happen!"

"Elizabeth..." Percy really didn't know what to say to her.

"They're dead, Percy!" She said, barely holding in her tears. The watery and sadness related type, not the multiverse kind of tears.

"This isn't your fault. You just opened a door to another world and we stepped through."

"Are you sure? Before, did I bring us to a world where Chen Lin was alive... or did... or did I create it?" Her eyes began to well up with water.

Percy sighed. "Look, Elizabeth... listen to me. _It is not your fault. _We're gonna go to the factory, we're gonna get our airship, and then we're gonna be well shut of this place."

Elizabeth nodded. "O-Okay."

After successfully calming his partner down, Percy lead the way to the factory entrance, where forty or so Vox soldiers waited. Percy approached the group curiously. "What's going on here! We need to get in there!" He demanded.

Murmurs of excitement spread through the crowd like wildfire. _It's THE Percy Jackson! _"Who's in charge here? Can I speak to them?" The ex-Pinkerton asked.

A middle aged black man stepped forward. "The security in there is insane. Turrets, automatons, and they outnumber us four to one."

Percy scanned the faces of the Vox men. Most of which were teenagers, and all terrified. Not in any shape to go charging into an impossible situation. "I'll lead the way in." He said simply to the commanding officer. "The rest of you can follow."

He nodded slowly. "The hero of the Vox Populi is here, in person! Brother, we must rise to the challenge! Percy Jackson shall lead the way in - and we must go with him!" A few more scattered cheers were heard before Percy finally remembered about Elizabeth.

"Sir, I'm going to need a few of your men to look out for the girl here. She's damn important." He leveled to the commanding officer, which was more of a threat than a request. The officer nodded.

"Percy? What exactly are you planning?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Something crazy, as usual. You know how strong my Vigors and shield are, kid - I'm not worried in the slightest."

"Alright." Elizabeth said eventually. "But you'd better be careful."

"Of course."

Percy gripped his Carbine tightly, white-knuckling it. Even as far as his plans go, this was by far the dumbest. He turned to the Vox leader. "I'm going in."

As soon as the door was opened, Percy was pelted by gunfire. His shield held up right until he got to cover - it shattered, but he wasn't hit. He started to throw out Possession Vigors to try and even the playing field, and things began to turn for the better. He saw the first squad of Vox charge into the area, so Percy moved up again.

The next few minutes were pretty repetitive - Percy would move up slowly, using his Undertow shield and his Lutece field to stay alive. He picked off at least fifty Founders as he methodically picked his way up the battlefield. Every so often, a turret would appear out of thin air and aid him, so he knew that somewhere Elizabeth was on his side. He prayed she would be okay.

Eventually, all of the Founders in the area were dead, and the Vox had suffered minimal casualties. It was astonishing, really. The Vox were chanting Percy's name, and he felt his ego inflate. He was practically invincible on the battlefield.

Wait; where was Elizabeth?

"Percy!" Came a female voice, running up to him from behind. He turned with a smile to find Elizabeth. "You're okay!"

"You bet."

A few of the Vox men began to work on the gate; the last barrier before they could finally get to Fitzroy. Percy slid his gun over his shoulder - he thought briefly that it was all over.

Of course he was wrong.

A _huge _white zeppelin appeared above the group and began to fire down on the gate. Nearly all of the Vox were killed, save for a few. Percy managed to pull Elizabeth to safety before grimacing. "We can't get that gate open until that thing's out of the sky." He said to himself.

Elizabeth looked at him as if he had three heads. "Are we volunteering?"

"No - I'M volunteering. You're staying here."

Before his partner could complain, Percy put on his Skyhook and jumped onto a nearby rail, completely unsure of what to do. He could probably make it up to the ship via Skyrail, but how would he take it down? Gah, since when did he think out his plans, anyway? He dismounted onto the zeppelin, handcannon at the ready.

Only ten or so Founders were present inside of the zeppelin, which made it a piece of cake. Bucking Bronco and his China Broom were an excellent combination. He desperately looked around for something that could stop the thing - until he spotted the engine reactor.

He pulled his Skyhook off his belt and shredded the main cables, disabling the power. That was all well and good, but an emergency alarm sounded. This thing would probably lose altitude, and fast. Percy booked it back outside, where he saw that the nearest Skyrail was quite a distance lower than him. OF COURSE IT WAS. He gulped before jumping out and free-falling, barely remembering through his panic to latch onto the rail.

Percy rode the rail, his heart pounding. As soon as he dismounted onto the ground, he sank to his knees in exhaustion.

Elizabeth rushed over to him. "Percy - that was amazing!"

"Sure. Explosions are cool." He said in between gasps of air. "Did I mention that I'm too old for this shit yet?"

His partner hugged him around the neck. "Come on. We're nearly there."

Percy rose to his feet slowly, realizing that he'd dropped his Broadsider somewhere on the journey. He was saddened - he'd had that weapon since Battleship Bay. He felt a strange nostalgia for that part of the city - it felt like an eternity ago, when it was only two days.

There was another small fight in the first part of the Fink offices, but Percy mostly just held back and tried to catch his breath while his allies took care of the Founders. He'd just taken down a freaking zeppelin - he was entitled to a breather.

Percy and Elizabeth eventually found themselves in front of an elevator. "I overheard that Daisy Fitzroy herself was going for Fink - and this lift takes us right to his office!"

"Well, that's convenient."

The exhausted private investigator sat in a corner for the duration of the trip, while Elizabeth look down at him with concern. After a moment, Elizabeth spoke. "They're just right for eachother, aren't they?"

"Who?"

"Fitzroy and Comstock."

Percy pondered the idea before deciding not to answer. He could see Elizabeth's lip quivering. "What's wrong?"

"All those people who died... Mr. and Mrs. Lin... I was so set on going to Paris, I..."

Percy grunted as he rose to his feet. He put an arm around the younger girl. "You couldn't have none any of that would happen. If you hadn't done that, then -"

"Don't pretend that I'm innocent in all of this!" Elizabeth suddenly snapped. Percy stepped back - he wasn't used to her being so aggressive. Her expression softened after seeing Percy's reaction. "I... I'm sorry."

"At worst, we sped things up." Percy said, trying to console her. "With the way that Fink and Comstock have been treating people, this was bound to happen."

"I... guess you're right."

Percy was surprised at how hard Elizabeth had taken the deaths of the Lins, especially considering her passive agency in their deaths. Despite the fact that she was nineteen, she still had the mindset of a child. She'd gotten better since first freaking out after Percy had killed someone, but...

The phone suddenly rang. "I swear to God, Fink, if this is another job offer..." Percy growled before picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"I saw your dead body, Jackson." The voice unexpectedly belonged to Fitzroy. "Saw it with my own eyes."

"You have your little revolution, Fitzroy. Now give us an airship!"

"That wasn't our deal. The deal was that you get the girl and transportation once we take Comstock House. You're not MY Percy Jackson." The woman spit out. "MY Percy Jackson was a hero. You're either a ghost... or an impostor."

Percy turned to his travel partner. "This isn't good." He said to her.

"But you... you just complicate the narrative!" Fitzroy said before hanging up.

He slowly pulled his China Broom off his back. "The Vox are going to turn on us. Get behind me - I don't know what we're walking into."

The elevator doors slid open to reveal half a dozen members of the Vox Populi, all with guns pointed at Percy's head. He threw out a Bucking Bronco before they could fire, and he picked them off with his shotgun easily. "I knew she'd turn on us," Percy muttered as he quickly looted all of the ammo from the dead Vox. "Are you okay?" He asked, mostly in regards to her silence.

"Yes. I'm just... surprised, that's all." Percy nodded curtly as he finished reloading his guns. Elizabeth pushed open the door into an outdoor area and screamed, running up some stairs. He soon knew why.

Behind a windowed booth, Fitzroy had both Fink and a small child - probably his son - at gunpoint. Fink begged for his life, but Fitzroy was having none of it. She aimed a Broadsider at him and fired, putting a hole in Fink's head and decorating the window with brain matter. Fitzroy approached the mess calmly and scooped up a glob of the chunky blood and wiped it on her face. Elizabeth gagged, and turned to go throw up. Percy followed her, making sure her hair was out of her face.

"Thanks," She said breathlessly. "I can't believe she just did that!"

"Neither can I."

"Kill the impostors!" Fitzroy called over the PA. "Burn their bodies when you're done!"

The following fight was fast and desperate, as the Vox Populi remnants stormed Percy and Elizabeth's location. It took all of their combined effort, using bullets, tears, and Vigors, to finally finish them off. Percy was satisfied with the result until Fitzroy called out: "BRING IN THE HANDYMAN!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Percy asked no one in particularly. His kill count on the day alone was well in the triple digits most likely, and he was tired enough that he was near collapse. But of course, Fitzroy had managed to corrupt a Handyman to her cause. Percy pulled his shotgun off his back, entirely unsure if he could even kill the beast.

"Percy?" Elizabeth asked in concern. He turned to see that she was absent-mindedly rubbing her brooch and crouching behind a bit of cover. "What should I do?"

Percy cranked his shotgun as he heard a tortured voice roar nearby - no doubt the half-man, half-machine. "Stay out of the way. If he sees you..." The older man unclipped his Skyhook from his belt and handed it to Elizabeth. "If you're in danger, use this to get away."

She nodded thoughtfully as Percy charged towards the deranged voice. The Handyman seemed to be of the same construct as the previous one he'd seen, but he was draped in red banners, as was the Vox trademark. And the first thing he did was charge towards Percy with fists raised.

Percy was taken off guard, and barely managed to dodge to his right to avoid getting smashed to bits. He put two shotgun rounds into his side, unable to get a shot off at his heart. This was clearly the monster's weakest point and the best way to beat him.

Undertow rippled off of Percy's left hand, as he decided to try the water-based attack. Despite a healthy blast of water, the Handyman still managed to grab Percy and throw him against a nearby brick wall. "Percy!" Elizabeth cried in distress.

The ex-Pinkerton took a shaky breath, feeling that he might have a few broken ribs, and it was only due to his Lutece field that he hadn't broken more. The Handyman looked experimentally in the direction of Elizabeth. "YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT! Over here!" She taunted.

"Elizabeth, no!" Percy cried out. "What are you doing?" He noticed an RPG in a few feet away - he crawled to it desperately, checking to make sure that it was loading. One rocket left.

He saw Elizabeth zip by on a Skyrail, clearly tryin to distract the lumbering monster. The Handyman in retaliation sparked his hands and seemed poised to jump onto the rail... with a panic, he called out as loud as he could, "GET OFF THE RAIL, LIZ!"

The Handyman leaped onto the rail, electrocuting it. Percy took aim at the Handyman's red glowing heart, before pulling the trigger. The rocket slammed into the man-machine's body, knocking him off of Columbia. The recoil from the launcher strained Percy's shields, but he was undamaged. The force still managed to knock him onto his back. He coughed up some blood and laid there.

"Percy!" Elizabeth ran up to him, kneeling over him. "I'm sorry! I should've-"

"I need you to do something for me..." Percy choked out. The girl nodded in confusion. "Go search the Vox men for a small metal box. At least one of them should have it. And thanks - without that little trick, I wouldn't have had the chance to shoot that thing."

"What do you mean a wooden box? What-"

"Just do it!"

Elizabeth nodded, and went off to where the Vox Populi bodies were. Percy knew that she would hate the task, but he was too fatigued to move much at the moment. And Percy was certain that he'd need the help of an old friend to keep going.

The girl returned to him with the grey tin. "Is this what you mean?" She asked, displaying it to him.

Percy nodded, setting his jaw for the upcoming pain. "Yep. Here, help me into a sitting position." The two eventually got Percy sitting up against the wall. Percy fumbled with the box, dreading what he was about to do. He swallowed, cracking the tin it open to reveal a hypodermic needle.

"Oh..." Elizabeth said in realization.

Percy picked up the needle, hands-shaking. Morphine - the good stuff. Back in his Pinkerton days, the injections were the only thing that kept him from dying. When you didn't have time to bandage wounds properly or broke a minor bone, this was the ticket. He hadn't touched the stuff in more than ten years. But he couldn't bear the pain any longer.

He sunk the needle into his left arm, moaning a bit. He wasn't a fan of needles. "Is that something you should be doing?" Elizabeth asked, her voice full of concern.

"Not really." A wave of lightheartedness swept over Percy as the morphine worked it's magic. He let out a sigh of pleasure. His hands shook for moment before he returned to normal. "But we have to keep going, right?"

"Please don't do that ever again." Elizabeth pleaded with serious eyes.

Percy rose to his feet, wincing. It was pretty weak morphine, which was both good and bad. It was good because he wasn't completely out of whack, but bad because the pain still lingered a bit. He cleared his head. "Let's go see what's up with Fitzroy, come on."


	15. Fifteen: I Guess it Runs in the Family

_"The Lutece Field entangled my quantum atom with waves of light, allowing for safe measurement. Sound familiar, brother? That's because you were measuring precisely the same atom from a neighboring world. We used the universe as a telegraph. Switching the field on or off became dots and dashes. Dreadfully slow- but now, you and I could whisper through the wall..."_

-Rosalind Lutece, October 15, 1893

* * *

A child was heard screaming, so Elizabeth dashed to the open window with Percy hobbling behind her. She gasped in horror as she saw the scene in the booth.

Fitzroy had the Broadsider against the kid's head, and she held him in place as the child struggled. Percy's stomach churned - this was too far. The leader of the Vox Populi needed to die. "She's going to kill that child, Percy! We-we need to get in there! We need to do something!" Elizabeth cried.

Percy readied his handcannon. "Here's the plan: I shoot out the glass and then -"

"No. You could hit him!" Percy knew what she said was right, but that didn't frustrate him any less.

"I'm open to suggestions, then!" He responded, holstering his gun. "What do you have in mind?"

Elizabeth's eyes darted around. "Uhh... there!" She pointed to a vent - one small enough that only she could get through, definitely. "If you boost me up, then I can find a way to open the door!"

Percy shook his head. "That's too risky. You could -"

"Do you have another idea?!" He couldn't think of anything, so he let his silence answer for him. "Exactly. Now, help me up."

Vomit began to rise in Percy's throat. Everything about this was risky... but it was true. There were no other choices. He cupped his hands under the vent and said, "Be. Careful."

"Distract Fitzroy! Go!" The girl demanded as she wormed her way into the vent. Percy quickly made his way back to the window, where he banged on the glass with his bad fist, wincing. The revolutionary spun around to face Percy, with surprise written on her face.

"Is _this _it?" Percy asked, trying to stall for time. "Is this your movement, Daisy?"

"This is what NEEDS to be done!" Fitzroy called back, her voice sounded insane. "The white men ain't nothing but weeds - cut 'em down and they just grow back!"

"What happened to honor, Fitzroy? I just single-handedly took down the entire factory for you! I led the Vox!" _Hurry up, Liz!_

"MY Percy Jackson died for this!" The woman cried, pushing her pistol up against the crying child's head. "You can't just cut down the Founders - you've got to pull 'em up from the root! It's the only way to be sure -"

Fitzroy gasped in surprise as her chest suddenly spurted blood. As she fell, the only thing remaining in the light was a small hand holding a pair of bloody scissors.

Percy's heart froze.

The light in the room turned on for some reason, and Elizabeth stood in the center of the small area, frozen in shock. Her once pristine white blouse and blue skirt were stained with blood. Fitzroy wasn't entirely dead yet, either - she turned around to the still frozen Elizabeth and gurgled blood before falling in a bloody heap in front of the young girl.

Elizabeth slowly looked at her bloody hands and the scissors, her hands shaking. Percy tried to put away his mortified face, but he failed inevitably. He drew his handcannon and shot out the glass before stepping into the room with Elizabeth, who looked at him and pointed her scissors at him in shock.

"Hey, hey! It's me, Percy!" He said, putting his gun away. She still aimed her scissors at him, quivering. She wasn't thinking straight, clearly. Percy put up his hands and approached her. "Kid, drop the scissors, and we can talk this through."

Elizabeth looked from her hands, which literally now had blood on them. Percy remembered hoe scared she'd been after her passive effect on the Lins' deaths, but this... there was no denying it now. She'd killed someone with her bare hands.

She didn't meet Percy's eyes - she just turned and ran for a set of double doors.

* * *

The look on Percy's face when he'd walked in on her...

Elizabeth choked back loud sobs as she dashed down the hallway, trying to ignore her partner's voice behind her. A sign above the door denoted that it led to the First Lady airship. They'd gotten it after all.

She pushed open a door leading to the back room, and locked it behind her. She sat on the floor and cried, refusing to respond to Percy's pleas as he pounded on the door. She couldn't stand to face him now. Not at the moment, anyway.

The look on his face when he shot his way into the office was a look of pure disappointment and horror. He looked at her... as if he were frightened by her. Elizabeth didn't want to be frightening. She just wanted to be _Elizabeth._

She looked once more at her bloody hands, noticing a water basin in the corner. She rose to her feet, tuning out Percy's knocking. She approached the basin slowly, washing off her hands, still sobbing.

She'd just killed a person.

That was the the part that still hadn't settled in for her. Just two days earlier, she'd called Percy a monster because he killed someone in her defense. This... this made her worse than a hypocrite. She'd stabbed Daisy Fitzroy - the leader of the rebellion against her insane father. She... she...

Elizabeth, for the first time, glanced down at her clothes and recoiled in terror. Her favorite dress was smattered with blood - the same dress that Songbird had brought her on her sixteenth birthday. It was damaged before, sure, but now... it was destroyed. She stripped down quickly, unsure of what to do. There seemed to be no clothing in the compartment, except...

Lady Comstock's dress...

She took to it immediately, not knowing what else to do. Thankfully, she still had her corset from her other dress on, and it was unstained by blood. She quickly put on the ankle-length skirt and the jacket before looking at herself in a full length mirror. She gasped at the image.

The person in the mirror could not have been... _Elizabeth. _Her eyes seemed sadder, her face seemed to have aged years in a matter of days. The dress made her look more mature as well - it was a bit more revealing than she would've liked, showing off the top of her breasts. But she didn't exactly have a choice, did she? Only one thing didn't go with it - her ponytail.

She choked back more tears as she thought about what she was going to do. She'd been wearing the low ponytail for as long as she could remember. She slowly washed off the pairs of scissors and sliced off everything below the bow. Her hair fell messily around her face at chin-length. She looked like an entirely different person.

Now she just had to face Percy, and his disappointment. He made no secret than he viewed Elizabeth as a girl - calling her "kid" occasionally. She longed for those memories now. But... Percy couldn't look at her the same way he used to. Not after he'd seen her kill Fitzroy. She... she couldn't bear to see his face.

* * *

After banging on the door for nearly a minute, Percy had given up.

He ignored the controls of the airship unwisely, and merely sat in the head chair, sobbing quietly. Whatever Elizabeth was doing in there... she was internalizing her problem, which was what he'd done when Annabeth died. And look where _that _had gotten him.

It was hard to see the kid who you'd come to care for kill someone else with their bare hands. Percy had thought of Elizabeth as one of the few decent people left in the world - innocent, sweet, and age-defyingly child-like. He could scarcely believe that she'd ever be the same again.

The door behind him slowly opened. Percy turned around to see an entirely new girl... no, not girl. _Woman._

Elizabeth still wore the brooch that Percy had picked out for her... but other than that, she looked completely different. She wore an ankle-length royal blue skirt, and her white corset from before, which accentuated her figure. She also wore a small royal blue jacket over the corset, which only covered her sides and back and only went to just below her breasts. She'd chopped off her ponytail; her hair fell around her face at chin-length.

She... she wasn't a kid... "Elizabeth..." Percy rose to his feet, trying to wipe away his tears. He didn't know what to say.

The girl... _woman... _didn't look him in the eyes. "This was all they had." She deadpanned, crossing her arms self-consciously in front of her exposed chest. "How do you do it?" She asked softly.

"What are you-"

"How do you..." she whimpered loudly before saying, "How do you... wash away the things that you've done?"

Percy took a step towards Elizabeth, who stepped back in reflex. She still stared at the ground. "I don't know, kid-" Percy stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "I mean... Elizabeth... you have nothing to be guilty over."

"I killed someone, Percy!" She said coldly. Her tears had ended, and her eyes were still aimed at the floor.

A high-pitched whistling sound trumpeted from a nearby statue. A whistling that Percy hadn't heard since Monument Island... "Oh no!" Elizabeth cried.

Songbird flew across the main window. "I thought he was dead!" Percy cried. "Uh... we need to make this thing go faster!" Percy began to randomly crank levers, unsure of what they actually did. He was too damn terrified of the bird to care.

"What are you doing?"

"I have no idea!"

Percy knew that if Songbird actually attacked directly, they were dead. So he continued to fiddle with levers, hoping they would get him somewhere that was far away from this stupid floating city. Anywhere but Columbia.

But then, of course, the mechanical bird flew straight into the front of the airship, throwing Percy and Elizabeth backwards. Percy hit head-first, and his world began to fade away.

* * *

Suddenly, he was someplace else.

"Your daughter is guilty, Athena. Not my son."

A council of twelve people were gathered in some sort of grand room. They were all in large, ornate chairs of different materials and shapes - it looked a bit odd. A man in a fisherman's chair was the one who was talking. He had jet black hair and green eyes - like Percy.

The woman he was addressing - Athena - had brown hair and grey eyes. She was clearly dangerous. "I don't deny this, Poseidon. But he if becomes involved in any way, then-"

"Can we put aside this petty squabbling and focus on the more important things?" Came a voice of reason. It belonged to a man at the end of the row - _Hermes._

Hermes stood up. "I'm the one who Annabeth Chase has discussed this with. Zeus, she's barely scratched the surface of inter-dimensional travel. She poses no threat."

"We can all clearly recognize this, Hermes." The gruff voice belonged to the leader of the council, Zeus. "But there are punishments to go along with this sort of gods-defying research. I think we can all agree on that."

This time, a woman in silver stood up. Artemis. "And what? We had this same discussion a hundred years ago about Lutece. We had that child of Hermes - Fink - kill them. Now they exist between all dimensions. They're more powerful than we can imagine. We can't afford to give Annabeth the same sort of pull."

"Yes. That would be..."

"Unwise."

The pair of British twins appeared in the center of the room.

"Lutece! How dare you show your face here!" Zeus roared.

"Father, watch yourself." Athena warned. Then she looked down at the mortals. "How are you, my children?"

"As well as ever, I suppose." The woman answered. She was clearly Rosalind Lutece.

"Although I am a bit hungry." The man must have been Robert Lutece. At least Percy had names for them now; officially, anyway.

"No you're not! We exist outside of time! One does not need food in our state."

"Ah, yes. I forgot. But a good steak is excellent, no matter the state of matter."

"You _do_ forget? Or you _did_ forget?"

"Or perhaps I have forgotten?"

A leather-jacket wearing man - Ares - clutched his forehead. "These two again? Damn it all!"

Zeus looked down at the two mortals. "You've come here for a reason. Other than to mock us for cheating death, I'm sure."

"Mock? We would never mock the gods!"

"But if we were to do so, we could mention how you damned us to Tartarus-"

"And we are now beings capable of traveling the multiverse with ease."

"And we cheated death."

"Or do we _cheat_ death?"

"Or that we-"

Poseidon covered his ears with hands. "Why are you here again? It has to do with the Athena girl, correct?"

"But of course."

"We wish only to give input-"

"And assistance on the matter."

Zeus and Poseidon exchanged a look. "Okay then. What sort of advice do you have?"

Robert smiled a bit cruelly. "She will be her own undoing."

"Along with that man of hers."

"That man will do... great things, in the name of God."

"Or he won't."

"And yet it's irrelevant to the business at hand."

"Do not interfere on the Chase matter."

"She shall sort it out herself."

"She needs not your assistance in that regard."

Poseidon looked down at the two with angry eyes. "What do you mean about my son? 'Things in the name of God'? What are you-"

The twins dissapeared.

Zeus sighed. "Of course. How typical." He set his gaze on Athena. "Your own children sentence your daughter to her fate. What more convincing do you need? We certainly don't need anymore of... _Lutece _bothering us for eternity. If we interact, then we run the risk of creating another figure like _it_."

"What about my son? I don't like that the Athena girl is taking him down this path. He has no idea what is even going on! If we do this, we are damning him to a fate worse than Tartarus."

"Perseus won't _always _do this, Poseidon." Hera chipped in. "Lutece said 'or he won't'. Though who knows what they ever mean, exactly."

Poseidon pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not fair to my son. And you all know it."

The council was silent for a few moments, as if in silent agreement. "All who vote in favor in leaving Annabeth Chase to her fate?"

Every single hand went up - but Athena and Poseidon. "Majority rules. Annabeth Chase is to be exiled and stricken from the Olympian archives. Any demigod who associates himself with her is also subject to this."

* * *

Percy awoke slowly to find that Elizabeth was, for once, not there at his side. She was slumped on the floor, snoring. The ex-Pinkerton rubbed his head in pain. He needed... medicine...

_THE GREEK GODS WERE REAL._

"Ah!" Percy cried out, as his head thumped. His memory walls... they were coming down... he was... he was the son of a Greek god. Of Poseidon. "AHHHHH!" He cried, his brain was rife with pain. He was... he was breaking free... the pain...

Percy crawled over to a first aid kit, pawing through it. He finally found what he was looking for a small gray tin. The hypodermic needle looked so inviting, so... Percy jabbed the drip of morphine into his arm, relishing in the rush once again. The pain in his head subsided. He knew it was dangerous to intake this much of the stuff in such a short time... but the pain was intense... and the stuff was... really good...

He shivered, looking down at his shaking hands. No... Percy wasn't getting into morphine again. He couldn't. But... this wasn't nearly as strong as the stuff they had at the Pinkertons - one drip of that knocked you out cold for trauma. Two could stop your heart. Apparently, Comstock shipped in morphine on the cheap for use here in Columbia. Poor bastards. But... for an older man journeying through a racist paradise full of people anxious to kill him... it was damn good...

Percy rolled down his undershirt sleeve down over the second puncture. Elizabeth didn't have to know.

He took a deep breath, before setting down the needle. He'd found out in his dream... the Greek gods... Percy had no problems believing it, either. Or maybe it was just the excess of morphine in his system. But it felt... right. Everything felt somewhat familiar... except the Luteces...

What was he going to tell his partner?

Nothing - at least not yet. He seriously doubted that she would believe him anyway - and with the way that things were going between the two of them... hopefully she'd warm back up to him soon. It would be torture doing this job unless Liz was cooperative.

Percy looked down at his hands, his eyes drawn to his finger stumps naturally. He allowed water to rush around his fingers. "Poseidon..." He muttered. Greek God of the Sea. And horses. And earthquakes. But that seemed to be irrelevant, minus the sea part. The idea that he was half-god, half-man was completely normal to him. It seemed very, very real...

A demigod. That's what he was. His father had fallen in love with a mortal woman. And they'd made him. Annabeth was a demigod too - a child of Athena. That's why she was interested in physics, architecture... she...

There was still something missing.

He'd felt some of his mental blockages go away, but... there was another. He could barely recall his childhood at all. There was some significance to that... there must've been. And he needed to figure that part sooner than later. There was another piece to the puzzle.

But the Luteces were another thing entirely. The way that the Olympians treated them... it was as if the Luteces were outside of godly jurisdiction. There was clearly more to them than was visible to the naked eye. And they'd condemned Annabeth to her "fate", whatever that meant...

_He will do great things in the name of God._

_Or... he won't._

What could that have possibly meant?

And why did Lutece have such a keen interest in Elizabeth and Percy? All of these were questions he'd have to ask later. They'd doubtlessly be back.

Elizabeth to his left began to stir. Percy hid the empty tin back in the medical kit, not wanting the young woman to see him like this. The ex-Pinkerton took a quick glance around the wreckage - they seemed to be back in the white part of the city. Where? Percy wasn't sure.

Percy rose to his feet and gathered up his weapons. The First Lady was in pieces - definitely beyond repair. His heart sunk - what would they do now? They'd... they'd need to find another airship. Yeah, that was it.

Elizabeth finally sat up. Percy looked down at her, noting that her eyes were still glued to the floor. "We're alive," Percy observed, trying to break the silence.

The young woman struggled to her feet. Percy still hardly recognized her - from a child to a woman in the matter of minutes... "Yeah."

The usual cheerful banter that the two partners shared was noticeably absent. The scene back at the factory had built a wall between them - a wall that neither of them was able to breach at the moment. Elizabeth was also refusing to meet Percy's eyes, which didn't help. "Do you hear something?" She said at last.

Percy strained his ears, hearing music in the distance. He peered out of a window to see that Rosalind Lutece sitting down in front of a piano, while Robert leaned over it, looking down at her. Elizabeth suddenly gasped. "We have to stop them!" She cried.

"What? Why?"

"They're... they're trying to play the song that summons... _him."_


	16. Sixteen: Not Prophecy, but Probability

_"Brother, what Comstock failed to understand is that our contraption is a window not into prophecy, but probability. But his money means the Lutece Field cannot become the Lutece Tear - a window between worlds. A window through which you and I might finally be together."_

-Rosalind Lutece, October 15th, 1893

* * *

Percy kicked down the door, not waiting for any more explanation. He'd need to worry about getting through to his partner later - Songbird coming back was about a million times most important. Elizabeth dashed out, nearly tripping over her new dress. "Stop!" She cried. "Stop it! You don't know what you're doing!"

"I don't think that's right." Robert said as Rosalind attempted to play the notes again.

Rosalind gave him a dismissive _hmph _before playing the notes again. "How about now?"

"Perfect."

"No!" Elizabeth whimpered, putting her hands in her face. "He's coming back!"

Percy waited. Nothing happened.

"Uhh... not that I'm complaining, but shouldn't the bird be trying to murder us now?"

Robert smiled smugly. "The notes were correct..."

"The instrument, however, was not."

"One needs both to get his attention."

"But if you know how to sing to him -"

"He will take you where you need to go."

Robert produced a card out of his pocket and handed it to Percy, who barely registered its contents. It seemed to show that a whistle was hidden inside of the metallic head of those creepy statues... interesting, but not all that useful. Percy handed the card to Elizabeth behind her, who studied it quietly. Percy shifted his focus to the Luteces, who both smiled broadly at him.

"I saw you two... in a vision just now..." Percy said, barely audible.

"Really? Good to know that we're getting through." Robert replied. "You see, my sister? I feel good about this one."

Rosalind only rolled her eyes. "You said the same about six, twenty-seven, forty-four, fifty-one, seventy-nine, ninety-three and a hundred through a hundred and twenty-two."

"Yes, I did. But this one is... different."

Percy shivered, not understanding their meaning. "What are you two?"

"We're Lutece."

"Robert."

"Rosalind."

"Lutece."

The former Pinkerton face-palmed. "No, I got that part. I... I think I know what that dream last night meant. _What are you? _And... what you said about Annabeth... I don't understand..."

Rosalind looked triumphantly up at her brother. "Told you he wouldn't put it all together."

"Yes; well, the Lethe is always a bit more challenging. Give him till tomorrow - he'll remember everything as clear as day."

Elizabeth finally spoke up. "Lethe? What is going on?" She was looking deliberately away from Percy, staring at Robert Lutece.

"Your escort here shall tell you when he sees fit." Robert said, looking down at the young woman. And then the twins disappeared, leaving the traveling companions in an awkward silence.

Percy cleared his throat, before saying sarcastically, "Well, at least they left the piano." He took a hold of the instrument, shoving it out of the way. He led the duo out into the main streets, viewing the surrounding area. It was at least seven o'clock - the light was fading. Percy could definitely use a rest.

A few straggling people from this section of the city were heading for the docks, trying to get transport out of this place. The rest of the civilians weren't heeding the warnings that the Vox Populi were coming. A large sign denoted the neighborhood as Emporia. "We should look for a place to rest." Percy told his partner.

"Sure."

They moved quickly through the streets, where the rich and affluent were arguing if the Vox uprising were merely stories or if it was truth. Percy would've stopped to tell them the news, but he felt little to no sympathy to the upper white class.

Percy eventually spotted a abandoned looking building and pushed his way into it. "'Periwinkle's Men's Clothing'." He read off the sign. "I bet I could find a change of clothes in here. Do you think I ought to look for some new ones, Elizabeth?" He turned around, hoping to get her talking.

Elizabeth nodded absentmindedly, before sitting in a chair against the wall. "Sure."

"Come on - we need to move to the back of the shop. I don't want to draw any attention to ourselves."

"Okay."

Percy was getting tired of her one-word answers, but he wouldn't bring it up yet. His clothes were in tatters, and he was exhausted. Percy walked to the back wall, sitting up against it, shutting his eyes. Rest now, clothes later.

He was hoping Elizabeth would join him up against the wall, and they could regain the old rhythm that they used to have. Yet, she sat in the opposite corner, looking at her hands. The old man forced himself to his feet, not being able to take it anymore.

"Liz, look at me." He commanded. She didn't react to his words, as she continued to avoid his gaze. "Come on. Why won't you let me talk with you?"

She cautiously looked up a bit, her eyes trained at the floor in front of Percy. "What is there to say, Mr. Jackson?" Her voice was still cold and calculated. And Percy hated when she called him that.

Percy stomped his foot in frustration. "You did what you had to do, ki-... uh, Elizabeth. Fitzroy was responsible for _thousands _of deaths. It was either her or an innocent child with everything in his life to look forward to. _You did the right thing."_

She finally whimpered a bit. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does!" Percy insisted, pacing in front of the now sobbing young woman. "You need to start moralizing your actions. How do you think _I _do it?! I've killed at least a hundred people today Elizabeth."

"You said it made you feel like a winner. I don't... I don't want to..."

"For god's sake, Elizabeth! You're not going to turn into me! You're young, beautiful, intelligent... a wonderful young woman. You've given me something to live for!" Percy cried, as he could hear the sobs get louder. "Without you... I'd've given up by now. Called it quits. Probably killed myself."

"Don't say that!" The young woman cried, rising to feet. Her eyes finally bored into his - her eyes were glassy, as if something inside of her had changed. "Please... you don't mean that, I know you don't."

"The things we've been through the last few days?" Percy kicked his discarded handcannon in frustration. "I've kept going for _you."_ A new tear appeared in Elizabeth's eye. "I know that I've done very little to make you reciprocate that feeling. And I don't expect you to."

"Of course... of course I've..." Elizabeth couldn't force herself to finish. She began to cry louder, practically bawling. She moved quickly to Percy with her arms outstretched.

Percy's heart was cleaved in half. "Ah... c'mere..." He gathered the younger woman in a hug, rubbing her back. She hugged him tightly, shaking from her sobs. "Everything's going to be alright." Percy kissed the top of her head. "Everything's going to be okay..."

"Thank you." Elizabeth said into his tattered vest. "I... the way that you looked at me in the office... I was worried, I... I didn't want to lose what we had..." She looked up at him, shaking her head. "Inside... I don't feel the same as I did when I woke up today, Percy. I... I don't want you to treat me like a little girl who needs to be protected anymore, alright?"

Percy set his jaw and nodded. As much as he didn't want to give that up, he knew she was right. "I still reserve the right to call you 'kid'. Don't think you're getting rid of that so easily."

"Of course."

The young woman put her face back into his chest. The two stayed in embrace for a few minutes, drinking in each other's presense. Elizabeth broke the silence when she whispered to him, "Do you remember what you told me about love yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"There's... there's not just one kind, right?"

Percy didn't really know where she was going with this, but he was so happy that she was talking to him again for him to care. "Yeah. There's difference between the way a man loves his wife and the rest of his family. Different kinds of love, I guess."

"It... it feels the same, though? Like... like you couldn't possibly live without the other person?"

"Yep."

Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes full of emotion. She opened her mouth and then shut it, as if unsure of what to say.

Percy patted her back. "I know what you mean."

The young woman laughed in joy as tears streamed down her face - the happy kind, Percy hoped. "Thank you so much... for everything... I couldn't ask for a better friend."

The ex-Pinkerton just shook his head and smiled. "Yeah, you could. But you're stuck with me."

Elizabeth finally broke the hug, then got up on her tiptoes to give Percy a kiss on the cheek. "You told me that I'd know it when I felt it." She grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the shirts. "Come on! We need to get you some new clothes."

* * *

"Well? What do you think?" The younger woman called.

Percy looked down at himself in the dressing room, examining his new threads. He really had become fond of his tattered attire, and he'd been sad to part with them. To compensate for this, the two had picked out very similar clothes. They'd managed to get the white undershirt and black dress shirt exactly (Percy drew his left sleeve slightly lower to cover the puncture marks), but the vest was new. Blue instead of green. The pants were similar, though the pinstripes were brighter.

He's even picked up a red cravat and tied it in a messy knot, giving him the silly split necktie like before. Impractical, but he'd become fond of the goofy thing.

His severed fingers were still present and glaring. Eternal marks of this trip, he supposed. The blue fabric was wrapped tightly around his hand, and the little "Elizabeth" bracelet was somehow still attached to his wrist. He slowly got around to undoing the bandage on the forearm, revealing yet another long, thin scar from his little battle on Beggar's Wharf.

"Looks fine to me." Percy mused, stepping out of the changing area. He spread his arms wide. "Whaddya think?"

"Subtract around ten years, and you might even be handsome." Elizabeth joked.

Percy chuckled dryly, happy to be back in the joking cycle. "Ten ain't enough. Maybe twenty. And that's pushing the common definition of handsome." He self-consciously scratched his thickening facial hair. He liked keeping a clean face, and it had been more than just a few days since he'd last shaved.

"You do look better. Seriously."

"It was hard not to improve over the old clothing." His clothes couldn't get dirty with the Lutece Field, but blood still did stain, and they still ripped and torn like regular stuff. The Shield also took away his need for a bath, which was nice.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, still looked uncomfortable in her new dress. Even though she had a loose idea of what sexual attraction actually was, she usually crossed her arms over her chest in modesty. She clearly was unused to this style of dress - and she was probably cold. Very few parts of Columbia weren't at least a bit chilly.

The sun outside was going down, and now that they were in the somewhat safe area that was the store, Percy very much wanted to get in a nice long sleep. The Vox hadn't descended upon Emporia quite yet - Percy would have to hope that hiding would be enough if the revolutionaries came knocking.

"Okay. Now I'm all set up in decent clothes and we've settled things, we need a plan." Percy said, leaning against the wall.

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm... well, obviously the First Lady is out. We'll need a new airship for our trip to Paris." She ran her hand through her hair. "Um... there's bound to be one at Comstock House. It's risky, but -"

"We just need to get into Comstock House and not get blown to bits."

She only nodded. "Right. So we find a way to the mansion, and then we take the Prophet's airship."

"Sounds good to me."

"There is only one thing..." Elizabeth said, her eyes playful. "I'm starving, and as the adult of the group, you're responsible for the food."

"Well, I'm not going out there." Percy gestured generally towards the street. "We could search this place, I guess..."

A female voice behind Percy cleared her throat. "That won't be necessary." Came the calm, cool voice of...

"Madame Lutece!" Elizabeth exclaimed, looking behind Percy in surprise.

The ex-Pinkerton whipped around to see the trans-dimensional woman sitting at a table, calmly drinking tea. The table hadn't been there a minute ago. The table clearly had room for four - and three other seats were empty. "Hello, Lady Elizabeth. And... Jackson."

What was he, chopped liver?

The three stood in silence for around thirty seconds until Percy coughed. "So what are you doing here?" He asked weakly.

"Waiting."

"For... what?"

"Robert. He's bringing some refreshments. Please, take a seat."

The two traveling partners shared a quick glance before sitting down apprehensively next to each other, across from Rosalind. "So... may I ask you something, Madame Lutece?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

She nodded warmly. "Of course."

"Why are you helping us?"

The magical being set down her tea, before looking intently at Percy. "And you, Jackson? You don't seem the type to look a gift horse in the mouth."

Percy thought about that. Clearly, she had some connection to the gods. She looked at Percy with a certain... coldness. She clearly preferred Elizabeth, though Percy admitted that it was hard not to like the charming young woman over the grisly old killer. "I'm curious about it, too." He said, cautiously.

"Well then..." Rosalind straightened her jacket. "Hmm... how to put this..." She sipped at her beverage. "I suppose... my brother felt the need to relieve himself of guilt."

"Guilt?" Elizabeth asked in confusion. "Over what?"

"Our agency in the events at hand." Rosalind said simply. "I accepted Comstock as patron; while I never really agreed with the man, I followed his orders. I'm not innocent in the happenings here in Columbia." She then gestured at Elizabeth. "Nor am I innocent in the matter of your imprisonment."

Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows, scooting her chair backwards a bit. "_You _put me in that tower?"

"No!" Rosalind said in disgust, as if she thought the idea was ridiculous. "That was Comstock's doing. But I cooperated. My brother and I observed you - had you poked and prodded, like a common animal. We took no steps to free you."

Elizabeth looked down at her thimble. "And that's why you're helping us? Your brother feels guilty?"

"Yes. Among... other things, he feels guilt for."

Percy noticed something in the careful way that she used her words. "Your _brother_ feels guilt? What about yourself? You allowed her to be locked up like that, and you still feel nothing?"

Rosalind trained her gaze on the ex-Pinkerton. Her pale, timeless blue eyes bored into him. "My brother was always the optimist. Where I see _King Lear_, he sees a blank manuscript. He believes fate can be reversed."

_"King Lear?"_ Percy asked in confusion.

The scientist rolled her eyes as the reference to contemporary Shakespeare flew right over his head. "It's irrelevant to the matter at hand. The other thing my brother feels guilty about is the fate of Annabeth Chase... and you, I suppose."

"Annabeth Chase...?" Elizabeth asked in confusion, before looking at Percy. "Is she talking about-"

"My girlfriend? Yes." Percy said coldly. He turned back to the smirking physicist. "I remember what I saw in the dream."

"Well, it truly _was _her fault." Rosalind answered simply. "She was a brilliant young lady. Robert doted on and on about her, and about how mother always favored her." _ATHENA..._ Percy's head rang. These two were demigods too then? "But, her hubris was the end of her, as much as Robert's optimism and my fatalism were the end of us. Fatal flaws for us all, I'm afraid."

Elizabeth held her hands up. "Hold on! Hold on! Give me a second to think!" She ran her hand though her hair, clearly confused. "So... so Robert knew your girlfriend, Percy? And what did you mean by 'mother'? Was she a patroness of science or something?"

Rosalind smiled coyly at her. "I suppose you could say that."

A man's voice cleared his throat, and Percy turned to his right to see Robert Lutece standing over the table with an paper bag of... it smelled like actual food... "I see we have guests, sister."

"That we do."

"Well then, I suppose it's a good thing that I purchased four sandwiches on a hunch then." Robert winked at Elizabeth, who gave him a confused look back. He opened up the bag and peered inside, as if he'd somehow forgotten its contents. "That'd be Reuben on rye for you, dear sister. From that one cafe in Coventry."

"Hopefully you haven't botched the order like last time." Rosalind said stiffly, accepting her wrapped sandwich from her brother. Robert rolled his eyes, as if he were used to this sort of treatment. She bit into it. "Passing quality, I suppose."

Robert took a place at the table, fishing back into his bag. "Ah... a corned beef bagel with mustard for myself."

Percy nearly gagged at the thought of it. "You Brits eat the strangest things."

"Clearly you've never tried Beigel Bagels in London, then." Robert said dismissively, before digging further into his bag. "Ah... here we are, Miss Elizabeth. Something you've never tried, but given your interest in French culture, I imagine you'll enjoy it." He handed her a white paper package. "_Croque-monsieur. _Soon to be a staple in French cafes."

"Uh, what do you mean 'soon'?" Percy asked cautiously.

Elizabeth was, however, clearly starving. She unwrapped the sandwich ravenously, barely examining its contents. It seemed to be just ham and cheese, but there was likely more to it. She took a big bite and let out an extremely scandalous and loud moan. Of course, she didn't know any better. "This is amazing!" She turned to Percy excitedly. "You've got to try it!"

"It's yours; enjoy it." Percy said, before training his eyes on the Luteces. _Soon to be a staple... _what did that mean?

"Ah yes, Percy!" Robert handed him a circular paper parcel. Percy noted how he used his first name.

The ex-Pinkerton cautiously opened his package. "A hamburger." He mused to himself. It was a relatively new phenomenon in the States - and Percy enjoyed them often. This one however... was different. The restaurant he frequented just put the ground beef on two pieces of toast - this had a circular, untoasted bun, and a round patty of meat. It also had cheese (a genius idea) and bacon. It felt so unusual, and at the same time... familiar...

"I trust we've chosen correctly?" Robert asked politely.

Percy nodded, taking a bite. It was _heaven. _He had to stop himself from making a moan similar to Elizabeth's. "Yes."

He glanced over at his companion, who had already inhaled half of her sandwich. She was clearly enjoying her little taste of Paris, even if it was just food. It made him to happy to see her happy. Also, it was hard to complain when you had a free meal in your hands. "Is yours good, Percy?" She asked, taking a break from eating.

"Delicious. And I assume yours is good too?"

"Oh, it's amazing! Where did you get this, Mr. Lutece?" She asked the man excitedly.

The strange man only shrugged. "I know a place."

The young woman seemed satisfied with his answer, and continued to eat ravenously. Percy couldn't shake the feeling that the Luteces were leading him on - like they expected the man to understand what was going on. But he didn't have a clue.

He set down his half-eaten sandwich, before looking Robert in the eyes. "What's the deal with these dreams I've been having? I know you have something to do with it."

Robert glanced up at him, swallowing a mouthful of corned beef. "I suppose that was obvious enough, then."

Elizabeth finished her sandwich, and glanced over at Percy. "Dreams? What are you talking about? Dreams aren't given to people - they just happen."

The Luteces gave her both sympathetic looks. "If that is what you choose to believe, continue to do so." Robert offered her.

"But you know what you've been seeing isn't mere... coincidence, Elizabeth."

"You're an intelligent young girl."

Percy looked at his partner, eyes wide. "You've been seeing things too, kid? Other than that nightmare you mentioned?"

She nodded slowly. "I thought it wasn't a big deal, I... I didn't want to say anything. I was worried you'd think it was silly."

"Since when did I ever care about foolishness? From now on, you tell me, I tell you. Deal?" Percy stuck out his hand.

Elizabeth took it, nodding with a smile on her face. "Deal."

"I told you." Robert said once again to his sister. "This one is different."

"I do not see it."

Percy would ask what they meant, but he was certain that he wouldn't get an actual answer. So he ignored it, and he went back to the dreams thing. "So... if you can show us dreams, what exactly are you?"

"You haven't, by chance, told your companion about the gods yet, have you?" Robert asked.

"The gods? What are you talking about?" Elizabeth asked.

Percy rubbed his forehead. "No, Lutece. I have not. I barely understand it as it is."

Rosalind looked at the young woman kindly. "You've doubtlessly heard of the gods and heroes of Ancient Greece, Miss Elizabeth?"

She nodded uneasily. "Yes. I read the Iliad just last week. But what..."

"The gods mentioned in that story are real." Robert deadpanned.

Elizabeth looked at him like she was crazy. "But... but they're just stories! For the ancient people to explain things before God and science came along."

Percy's head throbbed. He vaguely remembered saying something similar to that in the past. "Science really is the simple application of a man or woman's intuition into the world of the immortal." Robert replied grandiosely.

"On what logic does quantum physics operate?" Rosalind added.

"On what logic does the multiverse operate?"

Percy shook his head. "You could just explain it to her without your stupid roundabout ways, you know."

Of course, they ignored him. "And what you know as 'God' is merely a different perspective of the same thing. Very metaphysical."

"But that's semantics."

"The important thing here is that they DO exist, and-"

"They influence our world in many ways."

"One of which is their children."

Elizabeth still looked absolutely lost, but nodded slowly. "All the old stories tell of these... gods... having children with the people on earth. Like Hercules. But... surely..." She turned to Percy with a desperate look on her face. "You don't believe this, do you?"

Percy squeezed her hand. "'Fraid so, Liz."

"Your... partner here, Miss Elizabeth, is a son of Poseidon."

"God of the Sea."

"Horses."

"Earthquakes."

The young woman dropped Percy's hand in shock. His middle finger stump smacked against the table, sending a sting of pain through his body. "You... you're..."

Percy shrugged. "Yep."

"And you never told me?!"

"I didn't remember it. Until... until the airship crashed... I... I couldn't..."

"When you said you couldn't remember things, Percy... how serious is it?" Elizabeth asked calmly.

"Uh..." Percy didn't want to scare her or anything, but... he kind of owed it to her. "Not a lot. And even now, I can't remember my childhood... at all. But the rest... it's falling into place." He turned to the twins. "So what-"

The two were gone.

"You have to be kidding me," Elizabeth muttered.

Their food was also magically gone, but they'd left the table and a slip of paper in place. Elizabeth grabbed it without question and examined it. "'Type F-O-U-N-D-I-N-G-F-A-T-H-E-R-S in the typewriter'." She looked at Percy with uncertainty. "What do you suppose we should do?"

"Find us a typewriter, I guess."

Elizabeth led the way to the counter, while Percy covered her back with a Carbine. He didn't trust his luck - for all he knew, a horde of Vox could descend at any moment. Thankfully, his partner quickly typed in the code, and a secret back wall panel opened up. "Wow... thanks Lutece." Percy muttered, as he turned to the door and followed Elizabeth through. A button on the other side shut the door behind him.

This little room was simple - An actual BED was in one corner, a couple of canteens of water and cans of food were neatly stacked on a nearby shelf. The only other thing present in the room was a bible sitting on an otherwise empty table. "Very homey." Elizabeth said sarcastically. She looked at the bare bed with no blankets. "And absolutely freezing."

Percy sighed and dropped his guns off his back. "I'll go grab a bunch of clothes. You want a jacket? I'd imagine that your dress ain't exactly... warm."

Elizabeth blushed and crossed her arms over her corset. "Yes. Thank you."

"No problem."

* * *

Percy returned moments later with a pile of assorted clothing, which he had selected for the express purpose of providing warmth. He'd also grabbed a small for his partner - still a men's jacket, obviously, but Percy didn't think Elizabeth would mind.

While up there, he threw down a couple of Shock Jockey crystal traps just in case. Once could never be too careful.

He entered the secret room again, to find that Elizabeth was sitting on the bed, and clapped her hands in excitement as Percy plopped the pile of clothes on the floor. He handed her the jacket, sarcastically bowing. "Clothing for you, fair maiden."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I think I liked you better when you complained all the time, Percy."

"Sarcasm. Clever."

The young woman slid off her jacket, and then turned around. "Can you untie my corset? I could use a break from the thing."

"Sure." Percy approached her back and started to randomly tug on knots, not really knowing what he was doing. "Uh... fair warning... I really have no idea how to do this."

"I didn't expect you to. It's not exactly surgery, is it?"

Percy struggled with the wires. "So... you wore this thing before you put on this dress?"

"Yeah."

"How did you put it on by yourself?"

"Oh. I can do it... it's just a lot of work. And since you're here..."

Percy finished, and the corset popped off. His partner breathed a big sigh of relief. "Ah, that's better."

The older man turned around respectfully as Elizabeth put on her coat. "I don't get it. Why d'you wear that thing if it's so uncomfortable?"

"It's what women wear; I happen to be a woman."

The ex-Pinkerton got a nagging feeling in his gut. "That's stupid. Women should be able to wear the same clothing as men."

"Not that I'm complaining. I like dresses as much as anyone else. Oh, I'm done by the way." Percy turned to see Elizabeth in her grey spring jacket. It looked bizarre when compared to the blue skirt and the choker, but Percy thought it was kind of endearing.

"Alright. Lay down; I'm going to throw some of these clothes on you." Percy instructed.

She looked at him, confused. "What about you?"

"I don't know. I can take the floor."

"No you will not!" Elizabeth cried in protest. "You're sore and pretty weak at the moment. You need to sleep in a real bed. I can make room on here for you,"

Percy shrugged and extinguished the only candle. "Suit yourself, I guess."

The two settled in and covered themselves in their makeshift blankets, staying apart from each other by a few inches, as there was ample room for the act. Percy felt himself drifting towards sleep when a hand found its way into his. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk about the whole... 'son of a Greek god' thing?"

Percy wasn't surprised by that request. "Uh... like I said, I don't remember a lot, but I'll try to answer any questions you have."

Elizabeth hummed lightly, trying to think of something to say. "Uh... is that why you're such a good fighter?"

"Yep."

"If your father is a the god of the sea, then... is that why you can use that Undertow Vigor so well?"

Percy though about that. It made sense... "I think so. But... I'm not sure why I need Salts to manipulate water. I remember being able to do that without ever needing that stuff."

"Maybe it's psychological?"

"Could be."

"Did Annabeth know?" Elizabeth asked eagerly. She'd clearly found a new place to direct her curiosity - Percy's past had always interested her, and now that she knew this about him, it only intensified.

Percy shivered. "Yeah. She knew. That's... that's how we met, actually. She was a child of Athena."

"Oh." Elizabeth burrowed her head into Percy's chest, savoring the shared warmth. The older man shifted into a more comfortable position, and held her. "But I thought all the Greek gods were related. Wouldn't that make you two-"

"Nah. The gods aren't really... related, I guess. Zeus married his sister. They're all immortal beings - it's not an issue. If she was a daughter of Poseidon? That'd be weird. But Poseidon and Athena? That was fine."

"I guess that makes sense." Elizabeth scooted over a bit, so that way the two were just about attached to each other. "So... do you think we'll have more dreams tonight?"

"Probably."

"And you'll tell me if I tell you?"

"Sure."

Elizabeth hummed a bit more, clearly done with her questions. Before long, she was snoring. Percy patted her back, muttering, "G'night."

* * *

**If you couldn't already tell, Emporia will be altered a bit. Obviously, all the conversations and story bits from the release version of the game will be present, but overall I like what the 2011 E3 Demo showed us Emporia was - a place where the Vox were rioting, and if Booker played his cards right he could get through without conflict. Of course, the two won't be looking for a 40-year-old Comstock for aid, as they appeared to be in the 2011 demo. Yeah, the game changed a lot through development.**

**This will only be the case up until the Lady Comstock shenanigans begin. Then the exact plotline will be ridden for awhile.**

**KEEP THE REVIEWS COMING IN. Please.**

**Face Hugz, **

**Professor Marmalade, AKA The Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


	17. Seventeen: A Stroll Through Emporia

_"You have been transfused, brother, into a new reality, but your body rejects the cognitive dissonance through confusion and hemorrhage. But we are together, and I will mend you. For what separates us now, but a single chromosome?"_

-Rosalind Lutece, October 15th, 1893

* * *

"Hey, Annabeth." The younger Percy said out of breath as he entered the apartment on Bowery Street. He set his flat cap and coat jacket on a rack near the door, leaving him in his white undershirt, suspenders, and dress pants. His face was covered in dirt.

Percy recognized the apartment immediately. He still operated as a Private Investigator out of the small place to this place. He'd been able to afford to move out of Mulberry Bend after Annabeth had gotten lucky in the stock market.

"You're a mess." Annabeth said in concern, making her way to him. She moved slowly and her stomach had a noticeable bulge - clearly she was well along in her pregnancy. She gave him a quick kiss. "How was work today?"

"I was out on a job again." past-Percy said, traveling to a basin of water in the corner of the office. He ran some water over his face, taking a deep breath.

Annabeth touched his shoulder with concern. "Again? That's twice this week."

The Pinkerton nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah." He turned to his girlfriend, sighing. "Another factory. Another strike. Beckett and I watched the exits, while Bishop, Tate, and Tilden kept the crowds in control. Tate had to shoot one of the workers - a girl, no older than you." He sunk into the office chair, putting his head against the desk. "I can't believe I'm doing work like this."

"Percy, it's just a job." Annabeth said, a bit harshly. "I don't like it either. But with our child coming soon, we can't lose it."

Past-Percy flinched. He forced himself to his feet, facing his girlfriend. "I'm sorry, I'm just... stressed."

"Trust me, I know. I've been able to tell that kind of stuff since you were fourteen. Anyway, I want to show you something." Annabeth took a hold of his hand and lead him into the side room. "I talked with Mrs. Hobbes down the hall. She said that she wasn't planning on having any more kids; and that she would be happy to give us some supplies for the baby."

"Excellent!" Percy said, pushing open the door. The small side room had been converted into a nursery - a crib stood in the corner, with an old music box on the shelf above it playing a quiet song. A couple of old toys were on other shelves. "That was nice of her."

The young couple stood in the room, listening to the soft music. "I can't believe we're actually going to be parents." Annabeth finally said.

"Me neither." They locked hands, drinking in the thought. "If it's a boy I call the name Perseus Jr."

"That's the funniest thing you've said in months," Annabeth dryly remarked, mock-glaring at her boyfriend.

"And I guess you have a better idea?"

The pregnant woman sighed in mock-frustration. The two of them were playing around - the spectating Percy remembered times like this fondly. "Considering that I'M the one who is giving birth to her, I think it's only fair that I have sole possession of naming rights."

"First of all: _her?"_

"Of course."

Past-Percy rubbed his forehead. "I really hope it isn't a 'her'. I really don't want to deal with periods, boys, or any of that other stuff."

Annabeth gestured at herself wildly. "Because every girl is a raging ball of hormones who only cares about boys, right?"

The Pinkerton rolled his eyes. "You just don't remember yourself that well." Annabeth began to protest, but he held up his hand to stop her. "You were such an angsty fourteen year old girl during the Labyrinth quest, don't deny it."

She opened her mouth to respond, but then shut it. Past-Percy pumped his fist in triumph. "Congrats on finally getting on the scoreboard, Seaweed Brain. Now it's about a trillion to one in the 'won arguments' department."

"I have to take my victories as they come, right? Since you let me have next to none." The two stood in the nursery in silence again, hand in hand. Past-Percy took a deep breath. "I like the name 'Cole' if it's a boy."

Annabeth was taken aback by his serious request. "Absolutely not! I still vote for 'Nathaniel', but I know you won't go for that."

"You bet I won't. The other kids in school will make fun of him!"

"Nathaniel is a perfectly common name in 1893, Seaweed Brain."

The Pinkerton dropped her hand and looked at his girlfriend, his smile leaving. "Well, we aren't going to be here _forever, _Annabeth. As soon as you-"

"Percy..." Annabeth said, trailing off. She looked pointedly at the crib. "No university in the world is going to take an eighteen year old girl with no qualifications. Even with my telegram to Lutece..." She shook her head in disappointment. "He's not helping. In a way that will do us good, anyway."

"So we're stuck here." Past-Percy concluded, keeping his voice level.

Annabeth nodded slowly, sighing. "Maybe... maybe someday, we'll be able to get back. But for now... we'd better get used to this."

* * *

"Percy! Percy, wake up."

The man woke up from his dream to see Elizabeth kneeling over him, looking concerned. She was dabbing at his lip with a rag. Another bloody nose. "Thanks." He muttered.

"Think nothing of it." Elizabeth said softly, removing the bloody rag. "What did you dream about? You kept muttering 'Annabeth', and-"

"Something nearly twenty years ago." Percy said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "A little scene from my apartment on Bowery Street. Before she died." Elizabeth didn't need clarification on the 'she'. "I don't think it was anything important. You?"

"It was short. All I saw was this..." Elizabeth fiddled with her choker. She was still wearing the brown jacket. "It kind of looked like a town, in a valley. Except... all the people living in it were teenagers. It was right by the sea. It seemed like a paradise."

Percy's head throbbed. What she described... he... he swore he could remember, but... "AH!" Percy cried in pain, feeling more of the red liquid come out of his nose. He struggled to his feet. He felt cold sweat on his back... not a good sign... "Liz, look upstairs for supplies."

"But we already -"

"Look. Upstairs. For. Supplies." Percy demanded clutching his forehead. He noticed a medical kit in the corner.

Elizabeth only nodded, realizing that arguing with the stubborn man would get her nowhere. "Okay."

As soon as the girl was gone, the kit in the corner was ripped into savagely. His hands were shaking violently, but they eventually closed around a small metal tin. "Hello gorgeous." He muttered, rolling up his sleeve. He injected the morphine into his arm. The head pain subsided. "Oh my god..." Percy said in relief, dropping the needle. He'd done it again.

The cold sweats. The shaking. It was not good.

Percy brushed the thought aside and rolled down his sleeve. Elizabeth could not find out about this.

He shook his head violently, trying to clear his garbled thoughts. The place that his partner described was from his childhood... and it had something to do with the gods. There was a connection. It was like the wall was halfway down, but not...

And his dream. _We're stuck here. _It was like Past-Percy didn't think that they... belonged in 1893 New York. There had to be something to it...

He wiped off his lip, took a deep breath, hid his used morphine needle, and then headed upstairs to see what Elizabeth was up to. She was rummaging through racks of clothing and finding nearly nothing. "Hey. I think we should keep moving."

She nodded, moving quickly behind the counter. "Alright. Help me get my corset on and then we're off."

Thankfully, the needle was adequately hidden, and Percy aided the young woman quickly enough. Within a few minutes, they were back out on the streets of Emporia.

The Vox Populi somehow hadn't reached this particular part of the city yet - it looked a lot like it had before they'd camped out for the night. Survivors were now streaming out of their homes now, with whatever luggage they could carry. Percy took an iron grip on Elizabeth's hand so they wouldn't get lost in the crowd.

The block was closed off at the end, which Percy thought was odd. An entire street that just ended, and didn't actually go anywhere? It didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but frankly he didn't care. Precious little made sense to him in this city.

The only open store was a rather grand looking place, made with fake marble. Elizabeth led him towards it. She read off the sign: "'Major's Notions, Sundries, and Novelties'."

"In other words, junk." Percy deadpanned. "Let's see if we can find anything useful in here."

The two walked side by side into the old knick-knacks store. The place was relatively untouched - most likely because its contents were flags, pots, trinkets, and a bunch of other stuff that a man could need on Independence day. Elizabeth went to a messy stained mattress pushed up against the wall. "Looks like some poor guy called this place home." Percy remarked.

"What does that make us?" Elizabeth remarked wistfully.

Percy really didn't have a response to that, so he continued to search the place. A couple of Father Comstock posters hung off of posts, proudly declaring him the Prophet. Percy saw little else of use until he saw a cabinet behind the cash register. Firstly he took the money that was in the contained and then crouched down to look at the cupboard.

Three Vigors looked back at him. "Jackpot!" He said to himself, pulling them out.

"Percy! Percy!" Elizabeth suddenly cried. The man snapped his head to her location, where she held out a bust of George Washington. "Gold!"

The private investigator snorted. "If that's gold, then I'm the Queen of England. Keep looking."

He looked back to the bottles. The first was bright red, and was in the design of a topless woman with demonic horns blowing fire. The label denoted it as "Devil's Kiss". The second was all black, and was in the shape of a bird. It was titled "Murder of Crows". The third and final bottle was the oddest - entirely grey, with little decoration. The cork was a hand with bolts of energy shooting out of it. "Telekinesis".

"Hey, Percy! Look!" His partner's voice called. He looked away from his loot to see Elizabeth wearing an over-sized mask of America's first president. He cleared her throat and said in a poor accent, "I must not tell a lie!"

He chuckled dryly. She was having fun, at least. "C'mon, Washington. Help me figure out if I should drink these Vigors or not." Elizabeth took off the mask and ran over to Percy's position. "Well? D'you reckon I should do it?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't know. What do they do?"

Percy squinted. "I, uh, can't read small writing that well. Can you..."

"Yeah." Elizabeth picked up red one first. "'Light the way with Devil's Kiss!' Well, I guess that's self-explanatory. You can throw fire."

"That sounds... interesting."

"Uh... this one here says 'Protect your property from hooligans with Murder of Crows!' I don't know about that one." She then examined the grey one. "'Make heavy chores a breeze with Telekinesis!' Wow... that one sounds interesting. You can move things with your mind!"

Percy looked down at his loot. "I'm not going to mess with Telekinesis. My water powers can pretty much do the same thing."

He downed the two other bottles, in quick succession. Devil's Kiss made it seem as if his hands were burning to the bone. Murder of Crows had a bird land on his forearm. Elizabeth watched him closely as he did so. It probably looked pretty weird, to be fair.

"I think I saw a gun over in the fireworks aisle, Percy. You might want to take a look." The young woman offered.

Percy nodded. "Thanks, kid."

He went to check out the fireworks, pawing through them. He eventually did find a Broadsider, but it was near the bottom of a barrel. Had Elizabeth really spotted this?... "AH!" His partner cried out in pain.

"Elizabeth!" Percy cried in distress, holstering the handgun. He dashed back to her position to find that she was bent over in pain, staring at her hands. He was utterly confused... until he saw that the grey Vigor bottle laying on the floor, with its cork popped off. "Godammit..." Percy muttered to himself, rushing next to her.

After a few more seconds, she began to control her breathing. She rose to her feet, leaning heavily on the counter for support. "The hell were you thinking?" Percy demanded, trying to keep his voice below a shout.

"I thought it would be useful!" She said back, panting. As she turned to him, he noticed that her face was a ghostly pale.

"Why didn't you ask me?" The ex-Pinkerton cried.

Elizabeth gave him a cold look. "Because I knew you would say 'no'."

"You're right. Because that was a stupid idea."

She held out her hand, gesturing vaguely at one of George Washington busts. She snapped her fingers and the statue flew into her hand. "Really? So you _really _believe that this is useless? Or are you just being over-protective?"

Percy opened his mouth to answer, but then shut it when he realized he knew she was right. "_Don't use it."_ He leveled in a low voice.

"I'm not asking for permission." She replied, holding her ground. The two stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds, trying to see how serious the other person was.

Percy eventually broke the gaze, looking at the ground. He paced back and forth nervously. He took a shaky breath, and said while keeping his eyes trained at the wooden floor, "You are going to be careful, and only use it when your life is in danger. Look for Salts _every single time _you use the thing. Take no risks."_  
_

A sudden loud crash was heard outside, and the store shook ominously.

He looked up, seeing that his partner had suddenly dissapeared. "'Lizabeth?" He asked uncertainly. He saw that the young woman had crouched behind a pedestal, muttering "No... nononono..."

Another big tremor rumbled, and worthless junk began to fall off the shelves. Percy approached her, and she tried to mumble a sentence. "Nonononono..."

He joined the crouching girl behind the pedestal. She now had her small hands locked over her mouth, and her sapphire eyes were frighteningly wide. The hard shocks from the ground were getting louder and more frequent. A high-pitched whistle was heard from outside.

Songbird. Of course.

A green light streamed into the room - most likely the creature's eye searching for any people that might be inside the junk store. Elizabeth let out a small gasp, and the light became yellow. Percy glared at her, and she tried to apologize with her eyes.

For a few agonizing minutes, the monster scanned the store until it was apparently satisfied. A deafening _whoosh_ of wind was heard as Songbird flew away. Percy approached the window with Broadsider ready and peered out. "He's gone." He whipped around to face Elizabeth - but she was once again gone.

He saw the young woman near the back door - most likely a way into a new area of Emporia. He approached her slowly, as her back was to him. "Hey, kid..."

She turned to look at him, her face pained but not crying. "Promise me..." She said, her voice still sounding fearful.

"I _will _stop him." Percy promised.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No." She took his left hand in hers. "That is a promise you cannot keep."

"I-"

"Promise me... that if it comes to it..." She closed his hand around her throat. "You will _not _let him take me back."

"It won't come to that." Percy vowed. And he meant it.

She dropped his hand and sighed, maintaining eye contact. "Let's just go." She turned and pushed open the double doors.

There was a sizable crater in the pavement where the giant bird had landed. As Percy had predicted, now they had emerged into a new area - nothing different than anything he'd ever seen in Columbia. Tall buildings, flags, pictures of Comstock's face. And a sight in the distance caught his eye - a floating island he'd seen in a few pictures throughout the city.

"See!" He said, gesturing to the island. "Comstock House. It'll be a cakewalk-" He turned around to gauge her reaction, but she was gone. AGAIN. He saw a flash of blue fabric move through a gate to his right - he headed for it, moving quickly.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird..." Came Elizabeth's calm and reassuring singing voice. Percy entered the gate, and saw that Elizabeth was kneeling over a wounded horse. It was slowly dying.

On instinct, Percy tried to talk to the horse telepathically, remembering that he could do this. But the horse was in too much pain to answer back. "Shh..." The young woman reassured the creature, patting it. "It's going to be okay..."

Percy felt his hand reach for the Broadsider. He could only see one end to this. "It's a horse, kid. Horses die." He said tensely.

"He's in pain!" She cried.

"Not for long." Percy cocked the pistol, sending a single round into the chamber. "I need you to step back."

The horse was beyond saving. Percy really didn't want to do this - but it was an act of mercy. An act of mercy that Elizabeth needed to-

"W-wait wait wait wait!" Elizabeth cried, holding up her hands. "I... I can..."

"Step. Back." Percy ordered. The young woman looked distressed, but obeyed. The ex-Pinkerton pulled the trigger, ending the poor animal's life. A single tear fell out of Elizabeth's eye. "I'm sorry..." He said to her softly.

"It's not your fault. It was... it was mercy, you're right."

"C'mon, let's go get that airship."

They approached a set of stairs out of the small garden, where a large poster of the white-haired prophet looked down at them. People carrying luggage were moving as fast as they could towards the Columbia Metro station. Suddenly, a voice behind them cried out "Here ya go, you sons of bitches!"

A Molotov Cocktail was hurled at the poster, which caught fire and burned instantly. A few red-clad Vox members ran up to the residents. Percy and Elizabeth avoided eye contact, and continued on. "Your homes are ours! Your lives are ours! Your wives are ours! It all belongs to the Vox!" Cried the leader.

Elizabeth shivered as they moved up a set of stairs. Ferries and airboats were taking the rich and famous away by the dozen. "Where d'you think they're going?" She asked lowly.

"Wherever the Vox Populi ain't." Percy muttered back.

They trooped up another set of stairs, where a group of Vox soldiers were harassing a man. "Rich boy, whaddya got?" They demanded.

"I... I don't have anything..." The man said back, whimpering in fear.

One of the Vox went went through his pockets. "A handkerchief? And is that a monocle? Pfft, what am I gonna do with that?" The rich man was shoved violently down the stairs, wailing as he went down. Elizabeth was so close to Percy at this point that she was practically hugging him. "Hey, what the hell are you lookin' at?" The Vox on the right demanded to Percy, who ignored him. "Hey, kemosabe? Yeah, fuck you."

Percy had been on friendly-ish terms with the Vox before, but this was too far. All the buildings from here on in were covered in red banners and posters of Fitzroy's face. They seemed to have lost the "Jackson! Martyr of the Revolution!" posters, which was a good thing.

As they crossed the street, violence was spilling out all around them. Vox members randomly attacked any white stragglers. A young woman was beat savagely only a few feet from them. Elizabeth gasped in horror. "We'd best not draw attention to ourselves." Percy muttered to her.

"Hey, little girl!" Came the voice of a revolutionary Irishmen. He wolf-whistled at Elizabeth, causing her to blush. "Why don't you come back here? We'll show you a real nice time!"

"Percy..." Elizabeth pleaded meekly to her guardian. Within a second, Percy's Broadsider was trained at the man's skull.

"We're not looking for trouble, buddy." He threatened.

The thug - who was noticeably not armed - flipped them off before turning and running down an avenue. Percy kept his iron sights on the man until he dissapeared around the corner. When he turned to leave, Elizabeth was already a few paces ahead of him.

As they ambled up a set of stairs, Percy decided to ask what he was thinking. "So... back at the store... what you asked me to do-"

"Let's not discuss it." Elizabeth replied curtly.

"No, what did that thing _do _to you?"

She stopped, and Percy did too on reflex. She turned to face him, with her eyes hard and unwavering. "If Songbird were to take me back... that's death, Percy. Or something so like it I cannot tell the difference."

Elizabeth stared at him for a few seconds, as if wanting to make sure her point came across. Percy had no idea what to say, so he only nodded. "Okay. Let's... let's just find our way to Comstock House. We're nearly there, kid."

"Right." After a few more seconds of walking, they came to a split path. Elizabeth evaluated the fork in the road. "Hmm... there might be supplies this way." She gestured behind her. Then she pointed to an alleyway. "Or straight to Comstock House, what do you think?"

Percy nodded at the more direct path. The two pushed onward through the alleyway, eventually coming to a courtyard. A group of Vox were cheering as a seemingly innocent man was being held at gunpoint up on a dais. "I didn't do any of this." He cried in distress, struggling against the grip of two Vox.

He wore the uniform of a simple mail carrier.

Elizabeth looked at the scene uncomfortably. Percy reacted in a much more efficient way. He drew his shotgun. "Hey! He's just a postman! He didn't hurt anyone!" He called.

The entire Vox crowd looked to him in shock. And then several voices called out, "It's Percy Jackson!"

Of course.

Percy decided to try out his new Vigor. He threw out a Murder of Crows just to see what it did, and then dashed behind cover, Elizabeth right behind him. The power sent a flock of said birds at the crowd of Vox, which gave Percy time to think. He looked down at his companion. "Hide!"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me? I'm helping!"

"No!"

"You said you wouldn't treat me like a baby anymore!" She cried.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind!" Percy shouted back. His Vigor wore off, and the Vox crowd began to shoot at the offending duo. The ex-Pinkerton tried to pick off a few of the revolutionaries with his Carbine, but he was making little progress. "You know, if you're going to help, you can start now!"

Elizabeth opened a Tear, much as she'd been doing for the past few days. A friendly Mosquito turret managed to take down a few of the bad guys before a rocket came out and took it down. "Shit!" Percy cried. He threw a Devil's Kiss fireball, which exploded. Ah, fiery grenades.

"Percy! Watch this!" Elizabeth said in a determined voice. She peeked out of cover and pointed at a carriage on the right of the horde. With a grunt, she swept her hands to the left, causing it to move violently across the street. Around twenty or so of the Vox were knocked out from the collision. After picking off a few more of them, the initial threat seemed to be gone.

The private investigator rose to his feet, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Let's scavenge for money and ammo."

Elizabeth looked at him, dumbfounded. "What, no 'thank you, good work'? Or maybe a 'Hey, I know this isn't easy for you, but thanks for the help'?"

He looked back at the young woman, feeling a bit sorry for his cold attitude towards this new power of hers. Honestly... in combination with the Tears and this... she scared him. "I'm sorry, kid. You did good. But excuse me if this takes me awhile to get used to."

She only nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

**People who have been following BioShock Infinite since the early days will immediately know what I took pretty much direct inspiration from here - the E3 2011 Demo. The only thing that I pretty much changed here was Percy finding those three Vigors... and then Elizabeth got her hands on Telekinesis. I'm gonna have some fun with that.**


	18. Eighteen: Quiet Before the Storm

**And then, the archangel showed a vision: a city, lighter than air. I asked her, "Why do you show this to me, archangel? I'm not a strong man. I'm not a righteous man. I am not a holy man." And she told me the most remarkable thing: "You're right, Prophet. But if grace is within the grasp of one such as you, how can anyone else not see it in themselves?"**

-Zachary Hale Comstock, September 16th, 1893

* * *

A war horn was heard in the distance - someone had called in the majority of the Vox troops. Percy cursed and slung his gun over his shoulder. "Liz!" He pointed to a small docking area a short run away from their position. "We're going there!"

"Where does that lead to?"

"Who knows? But we're getting the hell out of here before they bring in the cavalry!" The older man broke off in a sprint, or at least as fast as he could go. Elizabeth tried to keep up with him, but her high-heeled shoes and her skirt made it difficult.

They boarded the gondola, Percy cranked the handle, and the thing began to move slowly along its rail. The sign said that the tram was heading for Downtown Emporia Docking Station. Comstock House loomed in the distance. Percy looked out of the car. "Alright... I think we lost the Vox. They wouldn't expect us to move TOWARDS this place."

Elizabeth took a big breath in relief, leaning her back against the glass. "So... you know how Comstock says he can see the future?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't... you don't actually believe in that stuff, do you?"

Percy thought about the question... and a random memory shard hit him. "Yeah. I do believe in prophecy. I just don't think Comstock's some great fortune teller."

She gave him a confused look. "Why?"

"Well, with the whole 'gods are real' thing... it makes sense. I remember receiving a few prophecies when I saw younger... I just... can't recall, exactly..." Percy's head thumped in dull pain, thankfully not as severe as yesterday's. "And... I saw something, in a dream..."

"What?"

Percy took a deep breath. "It was New York... but it was larger than the New York I remember... but also... familiar, somehow. That make sense?"

"Not really. Deja vu, maybe?"

"Sure," He shrugged, not really having an explanation. "Anyway, the city was burning. Columbia was... raining fire on it from above. An act of war."

"Wow... hopefully none of the Prophet's 'magic' is rubbing off on us, right?" She asked, smiling.

"I'm more worried about Lutece. But, uh, let's not talk about this anymore. It's hurting my head." Percy stammered, leaning against the glass next to his partner. "So... you mind telling me what exactly in that song summons the bird?"

Elizabeth shrugged, looking out the window. "It always has. When I was younger... I used to get excited when I heard it."

Percy gave her a strange look. "Excited?"

She blushed a bit, looking back at her companion. "He was all I ever had. He gave me food sometimes. Brought me books..." She picked up Percy's wrist and looked at the fragile bracelet. "He gave me my name. He was my only friend."

"Friend? Surely I'm a bit better for conversation than Songbird." He said jokingly.

She laughed dryly. "I only got excited when I was little. When I got to be ten or eleven, I... I started to hate him. Because he was my warden - making sure I didn't escape." She broke eye contact again, sighing. "But I guess he's just Comstock's pet, isn't he? Just like... like me."

"You are _not _his pet." Percy practically snarled, which caused Elizabeth to snap her glance back to him. "You are _Elizabeth._ You're free; and I'll be damned if I ever let that change."

She smiled, giving him a one-armed hug. "Thank you."

The gondola approached a set of platforms built on either side of the tracks. Sure enough, Robert and Rosalind were playing... badminton? That's what it seemed like, anyway. Percy shook his head, still entirely unsure of what exactly they -

"I think I know who those two... you know, actually are." Elizabeth commented.

"Really? Please tell me, because I have no idea."

"They... well, at least she, invented the technology that allows the city to float."

Percy furrowed his brow. "Giant balloons?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "No. Quantum particles, suspended at space time at a specific height."

The ex-Pinkerton looked at her dimly. "So... NOT giant balloons?"

She facepalmed, which was probably well deserved. They passed another platform, and they appeared on it. Robert was painting a portrait of her. "I told you they'd come." The man said knowingly once the trolley was in earshot.

"No, you didn't."

"Right. I was GOING to tell you they'd come."

"BUT you didn't."

"But I DON'T."

"Are you sure that's right?"

As they passed the canvas, Percy noticed that the painting was of Robert - not Rosalind. How... odd...

"I was going to HAVE told you they'd come?" Robert asked in confusion.

"No."

"The subjunctive?"

"That's not the subjunctive."

"I don't think the syntax has been invented yet."

"It would have had to have had been." Percy felt like his head was going to explode from Rosalind's statement.

"Had to have... had been?" Even Robert sounded confused at that point. "That can't be right."

Elizabeth looked at her partner with uncertainty. Even she was baffled by the exchange. "There's something to them... I just can't..."

"They're not crazy." Percy said. The words kind of just fell into his mouth. "You want my opinion? They're goofballs with powers they're abusing for fun."

They passed another platform, where the twins were waltzing. Yeah; they had to be showing off at this point.

"You know what's odd?" Robert asked.

"That we sometimes..."

"Finish each other's sentences?"

Were they just noticing this now?!

"Exactly." Rosalind said.

Robert sighed. "It would be odder if we didn't."

"Huh..." Elizabeth said to herself as the gondola slid into the station. "How do you suppose they manage that?"

"I'll get back to you when I figure out the floating city bit."

They walked out into the abandoned station. "You think everyone from downtown already got out?" Elizabeth asked.

Percy opened up an abandoned trunk, scooping up a wallet. "Most likely. If we're lucky, we won't run into any Vox. They all know we're around here somewhere - we have to be careful."

She looked at him warily as Percy rifled through the small leather pouch, pocketing a small amount of dollars. "Isn't that kind of immoral?"

"Isn't shooting people immoral, too?"

"I guess..."

They spent a minute or so looking over the initial docking area, trying to find all the supplies they could get. Eventually they moved on. Near the end of the room was a large sign - in the format of propaganda. It showed a smiling baby surrounded by rays of light.

"'The Seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne'... he was grooming me, wasn't he?" The young woman pondered.

Percy examined the poster more closely. It was just the "mountains of man" prophecy again. "Comstock? Yeah, I think so." He squinted at the poster. "You were a cute baby."

Elizabeth ignored the last statement and reached out to touch the propaganda. "Then why lock me away?"

The ex-Pinkerton shrugged, then realized that he wasn't in her line of sight. "I don't know. I'm guessing you didn't want to be groomed. And maybe he had something in line to make you more... _agreeable." _

"Like what?"

Percy shivered. "Best we don't find out."

The next few rooms were all abandoned - the Vox had already cut a bloody swathe through the station. All around was strewn luggage and trunks, which sat next to their dead owners. Percy had the decency not to loot those. The duo eventually made their way to a rather fancy looking tavern inside the station - The Blue Oyster. Unfortunately locked.

"Kid, can you take a look at this?" Percy asked.

Elizabeth took a step towards the lock, before getting mischievous look on her face. "Can I get a bit creative?" She asked, smiling.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Are you going to listen to me if I say 'no'?"

"You can guarantee I won't."

The young woman took his silence as permission. She levitated a few tin garbage cans in front of her, and then put her hands together. The metal crunched into a grey lump the size of a basketball. "Throw a Devil's Kiss at it!" Elizabeth said through clenched teeth.

Percy did as she said, and the ball of metal glowed red. She took a shaky step forward and held the molten metal up to the lock. The mechanism melted off, and Elizabeth dropped the ball gratefully. The ex-Pinkerton threw some water at it, cooling it down to a non-molten temperature. Elizabeth had fallen backwards into a bench, and was panting.

He quickly rushed to her, offering her his hand. "Kid... you need to wait a while after using that thing again."

She nodded, but just barely. "Yeah... pushing things around is much easier than... that."

"Come on, let's get into the bar. I'll find you some water." Percy helped the young woman to her feet, as she leaned on him for support. "I know you're eager to prove yourself, but you need to take a break."

He kicked open the door to the Blue Oyster, noting that it was a pretty classy place. The bar seemed to be fairly well-stocked, and there was cold fireplace with a couch in front of it near the entrance. "I can make it to the couch." Elizabeth muttered with a determined face.

Percy was going to refuse, but he decided to let her be. "Okay. I'm going to go fetch us a drink."

He poked through the alcohol shelf, before plucking off a bottle of cognac and a bottle of vermouth from the wall, being undecided. He eventually cracked open the former, settling for the idea that he'd enjoy the fortified wine after the first drink. He probably shot better with more than one in his belly, anyway.

He poured himself the classic French drink before digging out another glass for Elizabeth. He filled that one up with water from the tap, and then returned to the girl, who was sitting on the couch. He handed her the water before lighting up the fireplace and settling onto the furniture next to the girl, placing the the two bottles on the table in front of him.

"Thanks." She muttered, sipping at the cup.

"No problem." Percy said back, as he started on his own glass. He turned to the girl. "So what about that Telekinesis thing is so difficult? I never really have a problem with my Vigors."

She shrugged, draining her glass. "I don't know. When I use... I can hardly think about anything else. It drains my... ability to _think._ I can't really explain it."

"That doesn't sound pleasant. Like I said... don't push yourself too hard. We'll look for some Salts soon - I could use some too."

Percy drained his cognac and reached for the second bottle. "What is that?" The young woman asked curiously.

He looked a her, a bit confused by her interest. "Vermouth. It's a spiced wine." He poured himself a rather generous glass, and sipped at it. "Ah. Decent stuff. Not a huge fan of wine, but this is alright."

"Can I try it?"

The former Pinkerton was taken aback by her sudden request. "Uh... I guess so. You're nineteen, you said?"

"Yes."

Percy shrugged, handing her the bottle. "Go ahead."

She quickly poured a small glass and then slowly brought the beverage to her nose. She sniffed it. "This smells... not very good."

"It won't kill ya." Percy encouraged her, enjoying a sip of his own. "It's not very stiff, so you'll be able to stand up straight after this."

Elizabeth took a positively minuscule sip of the aperitif, and quickly made a face. "Ugh! This stuff is vile! How do you do this all the time?"

Percy laughed at the response he expected, and leaned further into the couch, slouching a bit. "It doesn't taste great. But it'll warm your bones a bit. 'Course, if you don't want it..."

She sighed and whetted her lips with more of the vermouth. Her nose wrinkled up and she pressed her mouth into a straight line, trying to fight against the burn. "Do you think we'll run into any more Vox soon?"

He shrugged in response, rising to his feet. He set his glass on the table and turned to survey the bar. "I wouldn't bet against seeing more of the bastards. I'm gonna look for some Salts and money for us; I want us to be well-heeled when we get to Paris."

* * *

After the two had finished their drinks, they continued on through the mostly abandoned station. He'd come into a scrape with a few idle Vox guards in the main atrium, but they were easily dispatched. After the small fight and the looting session, Elizabeth led the way past some turnstiles.

The small room seemed to be a ticket area, where you could pass in and out of Downtown Emporia. A voxaphone sat on the table; so of course Percy hit play.

**"You have been transfused, brother, into a new reality, but your body rejects the cognitive dissonance through confusion and hemorrhage. But we are together, and I will mend you. For what separates us now, but a single chromosome?"**

"Whoa... that was the voice of Madame Lutece!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "So... Robert really isn't her brother..."

"'A single chromosome'... you don't mean-"

"The Lutece 'twins' are the same person! From different realities!" The young woman exclaimed in excitement. "This... this explains everything! Why they finish each other's sentences? Why they're so different, yet so... similar."

"Wow..." Percy said under his breath, trying to wrap his head around it. "So... there's a universe where I'm a woman?"

"And I'm a man."

"This hurts my stupid brain. Let's get out of here."

An elevator sat in the corner of the room - where it led to, exactly, wasn't known to Percy, but it would have to work. He squinted at a lock next to it. "Can you open this, Liz?"

"Hmm..." She approached the door before turning around with a frown on her face. "It's a simple dual-dial lock. My books said that most fools keep the combination no more than twenty feet away."

Percy sighed. "Well, let's hope we find one of those fools."

The two pawed through the salvage for a few minutes in silence, finding nothing. Percy began to look through a pile of books. "So why were you so keen on lockpicking and code-breaking?" He asked, trying to make conversation.

"Put a person in a cage," Elizabeth started. She watched Percy while he searched. "And they develop an interest in such things."

"I suppose so." The man replied back, as he found the combination on a piece of paper - 0451. Percy tapped it with his finger.

"And I won't be locked up again, Per-" She suddenly placed her hand on his. He looked at her strangely, while she then put her finger to her lips and pointed behind her. One of the singing statues - of course. The two dove to the floor, while the building shook from impact.

Songbird. Of course.

The two stared at each other in terror behind the counter while a yellow light scanned the room. After a few painstaking minutes, the creature took off again. The two partners stood up and looked at each other without saying a word. Percy eventually took a deep, shaky breath. "We're still alive."

"It would seem like it."

They walked towards the elevator hand-in-hand, relishing in the touch of another human being. Percy input the code and the elevator ticked open, and the two strode inside. "We've come this far." The man said, hoping to comfort the poor girl. "Remember back at the Hall of Heroes? When we thought we could just waltz in and take the Shock Jockey?"

"Or in Finkton, when all we had to do was see Chen Lin..."

"Yeah. I... I think things must happen for a reason. How else have we both made it this far without any... serious injuries?" Elizabeth looked at the ground as the elevator began to move, pondering Percy's words. "Kid, when you think about it, we've already done the impossible. And I'll be damned if I stop now."

If Elizabeth meant to respond, then she never got a chance to. A few explosions rang out in the distance - and Percy was draw the the window outwards. The Vox Populi and the Founders were going at it, it seemed. The former Pinkerton would have been content to ignore the warring parties, but an errant rocket struck the elevator, nearly collapsing the thing. A Skyrail gleamed just outside - easily in range. He grabbed Elizabeth's arm and shot onto the rail, dismounting as soon as possible.

* * *

Percy did his best to stay alive and do as little as possible in the battle. He stayed out of the way and let his enemies kill each other - which was generally the smart thing to do when you were outnumbered about a bazillion to one. Thanks to some nifty Tears by Elizabeth, both sides had either moved on to different areas or were dead.

As the pair was absolutely lost, they eventually decided on heading for a gate called "Harmony Lane" first. After dodging snipers and participating in another huge battle, they arrived in "Z.H. Comstock Victory Square". Predictably, the Prophet had a rather huge statue, while Lady Comstock received a smaller one.

Elizabeth pointed to a building in the corner. "Behind that place lies Comstock House!"

"Alright! I told you we'd make it!"

The square in front of the gate was covered in dead bodies, bullet holes, and red pennants. "Seems like this place has been 'reclaimed by the Vox'." Elizabeth noted dryly.

"Sure looks like it."

Percy approached the gate, but he saw no way to open it. There was a hand-print sensor - but obviously, he wasn't Comstock. He couldn't just barge his way in. But when Elizabeth stepped forward, an automaton's voice crackled into existence.

_"Lady Comstock, how lovely to see you!"_ The machine cried cheerfully. "_Wonderful of you to make the journey; especially considering your painful death, nineteen years ago!"_

The ex-Pinkerton looked at his partner in awe. "Lady Comstock?"

Elizabeth looked down at her attire. "This dress... this was_ her_ dress. The machine's mistaken me for my mother." She hesitantly held up her hand to the sensor.

_"Your fingerprints do not seem to be your own today, Mrs. Annabeth Comstock! Are you unwell?"_

"Miss Annabeth..." Percy muttered to himself.

"It's not all that uncommon of a name, is it?" The young woman asked. "It is a hell of a coincidence though."

He nodded, not really sure what to make of this new fact present to him. Mrs. Annabeth Comstock... "Yeah. It is." He gestured to the hand-print sensor. "This thing isn't going to work for us."

"I think it might."

"Your mother is dead, Elizabeth."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. I think it's time I pay my respects." Her voice was steely. "Let's go to where she's buried."

Percy stared at her. "What?"

"You heard me. We're going to where she's buried."

"And what do you think you're going to do there?"

She started walking briskly in the direction of the Memorial Gardens. Percy needed to jog to catch up to her. "Whatever you think you're going to do at Lady Comstock's grave, it won't be worth the regret you'll feel."

Elizabeth turned to look at him. She wrapped her arms around her waist, as if she was hugging herself. "I already regret things, Percy. This just tacks onto the list."

And she continued to walk towards the burial site, her high-heeled shoes clicking on the cobblestone pavement. Seeing no way to convince her otherwise, Percy sighed and tried to keep up with her.

* * *

**This is the last filler chapter. The next three chapters will be the last - Lady Comstock, then Comstock House, then the ending. I actually just finished writing the ending... I feel good. Now I just need to revise it about a bajillion more times.**

**If you can't tell, I've been updated on an every-other-day basis. And this pace, the ending will be released on March 20th, 2014. Keep reading. Keep reviewing.**

**OH! And yeah. Annabeth Comstock. Hell, the posters in the game call her "A. Comstock." I'm just... expanding the fiction.**


	19. Nineteen: I Ain't Afraid of No Ghost

_"I made the right choice... the things that I've done... it doesn't matter, in the end. No matter how much I hated the gods, I couldn't turn my back on them. Then I'd... become like Luke... no. With what they've done to me, I'd become much worse than Luke._

_"Despite that... I sometimes wonder, now that it happened so long ago and I don't nearly cry every time I think of Annabeth, if that day in the church... what if I'd chosen to be baptized? That was before Annabeth was pregnant... I wonder... if I'd been baptized, maybe we wouldn't've had a child? Then Annabeth wouldn't have died... we could've lived our lives. I wonder what would become of us... if we could have ever made it back. Someday."_

-Percy Jackson (entry in his audio diary, 1897)

* * *

Percy had killed hundreds of people in the last twenty years. He'd been regularly stealing property and looting corpses over the last few days. Hell - he'd even developed a sudden interest in morphine. And it seemed like violating the grave of a holy woman was going to be added to that list.

Not that Percy thought that taking Lady Comstock's hand was a huge "sin" or anything. The woman was apparently killed by Fitzroy; though most of what Comstock said was lies. "Ugh... this is such a waste." He snapped out of his thoughts and saw that Elizabeth was looking at the warring Columbian islands. "How can the city come back from this?"

"It shouldn't." Percy said. This place had given him hell, and would be more than happy to see it destroyed. Preferably after they were long gone.

They continued along the winding cobblestone streets in silence, until Elizabeth finally pointed to a sign. "There it is. Memorial Gardens."

The graveyard itself was small - clearly reserved for the city's elite. A few red banners on grave stones told Percy that the Vox had already swept through this area and saw nothing of value. Still, Percy did his due diligence of looking for supplies. Elizabeth stood by, watching him. She was clearly anxious to get this underway, but Percy was taking no chances.

"You look... uncomfortable." She noted.

Percy shrugged, looking up at her. "Well, graveyards aren't exactly homey."

"No. It's... it's more than that."

He sighed, recalling something from his past. "I had to bury Annabeth in a graveyard. It's not what she would have wanted."

She raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." He shut his eyes, trying to... "Yeah... yeah, okay. I remember now. Demigods don't like being buried like this. It's not traditional."

"What happens after you die, then?"

"We're burned. Cremated, I guess. Under a burial shroud - this woven covering of cloth. It's a sight to see."

Elizabeth shivered. "If I'm still with you when you die, I don't know if I'll have the courage to do that for you."

"Well, let's hope that isn't in the near future, right?" The girl nodded at his words. "Good. I think I see Lady Comstock's mausoleum over there."

The woman seemed to be remarkably well preserved - as if she were merely sleeping. Elizabeth looked through the iron bars. "I've read about this. The Christians call it 'incorruptibility'. When a body doesn't decay after death. They say that God simply doesn't allow it to happen."

Percy snorted. "Or Comstock had her embalmed. Either way, we need to get in there. Start on the lock."

As the young woman began to pick the lock, Percy felt his stomach go sour at the thought of what they were going to do. "We must be able to find another way."

"There _is no_ other way. Her fingerprints will get us into Comstock House." She said, her voice steely.

"She's your mother." Percy contested.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, momentarily freezing her work. "A parent who abandons their child doesn't draw a lot of sympathy in my book." She snapped, before going back to study the lock.

Percy's head throbbed softly. He wasn't sure why.

"Just take a second to think about what you're doing." He pleaded, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off, finishing the pick. She pushed open the gate. "Are you going to come too, or are you going to wait out there?"

Percy responded in silence by walking in after the young woman, who approached Lady Comstock's airtight case. "Hello, 'mother'." She snarled. "All locked up in there, huh? Looks like you and I have some common ground."

The woman laid peacefully in her cushioned grave. The black dress she was wearing looked new. She held a rose across her chest. Her eyes were closed and her mouth neutral - as if she were sleeping. Her blond hair was back in a bun. "Kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me do it."

"No-"

"Let. Me. Do it." Percy let his demand hang in the air. He wasn't taking no for an answer. He approached the case when the light in the small mausoleum cut out. And the last voice Percy wanted to hear echoed over the PA.

_"You see child?" _Comstock said, as the sound of shifting machinery was heard. _"You chose to follow a False Shepard, and he has led you astray!"_

Several beams of light that came seemingly out of nowhere struck Elizabeth, as she began to glow. She cried desperately in pain and grabbed her head. "ELIZABETH!" Percy cried.

_"What I do, I do for love! For what lion does not cringe to see his cub in pain?"_

Percy looked around desperately, trying to find out where the beams were coming from. He saw nothing...

"MAKE IT STOP!" Elizabeth cried, now shaking in pain. "PERCY, MAKE IT STOP! AHHHH!"

He ran to her. "I don't know what to do!"

_"If you won't listen to me, perhaps you'll listen to your mother!" _The beams of light suddenly arced off of Elizabeth and towards Lady Comstock's grave. A brilliant flash of light was seen, and a ghostly figure appeared before Elizabeth. She finally recovered and look up at the figure in horror.

It was a woman, clearly - but she wasn't exactly... there. She glared down at Comstock's bastard daughter hatefully before flying out of the crypt. The lights finally came back on, and Percy rushed to Elizabeth's side.

"Elizabeth? Are you alright?" He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I... I don't..." She looked confused, as if she didn't know where she was. "Who... who are...?"

"Take it easy for a minute, kid." He looked behind him to see that the grave had been shattered... and the body was gone. So that... _thing_... was Lady Comstock? "Shit... we have a problem."

Elizabeth shook away his arm, having regained her senses. "Where did she go?" She demanded.

"I don't know! I think the more pressing question is: How the hell is your mother a ghost?"

She shook her head. "No! She isn't a ghost. Comstock, h-he _used_ me to power that device! He opened up some kind of Tear!"

Percy pushed open the gate, intending to try and figure out this mess after a quick walk. What he didn't expect was for Lady Comstock to appear again in ghostly form. But of course, she did.

The ghost...thing glared down at Percy and Elizabeth, who strode out into the graveyard side by side. _"Child!" _It cried out. _"You are the lie that spewed from my womb!"_

So Percy did the instinctual thing. He raised his China Broom. But before he could fire, she shrieked in an incredibly high-pitched tone. Percy covered his ears in pain. And then dead people began to rise out of their graves.

"What the hell?" Percy cried in surprise. The first body ran at him, and he pulled the trigger of his shotgun. The thing flew backwards, dead.

"What's happening?" Elizabeth yelled in surprise.

"It seems..." Another zombie took a shotgun shell to the face. "Your mother is raising the dead!"

The fight against the walking dead was quick and desperate. Elizabeth stayed in the back and used Telekinesis and her Tears to aid Percy when she could. Lady Comstock dissapeared for a few minutes, most likely waiting for her minions to kill Percy and his companion. But in the end, he stood alive with the zombies around him dead.

"Is it over?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly.

"I think so-" And then the Lady Comstock appeared right in Percy's face and shrieked. Percy stumbled back before blindly firing in her general direction. The ghost dissapeared. "Yeah. Now it's over."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Elizabeth helped Percy regain his balance. The screech attack that Lady Comstock had pulled off was impressive - it definitely messed with Percy's coordination. "Any ideas about how she can raise the dead?" He asked.

"Nope."

"Do you know what exactly she is?"

She shrugged before wistfully saying, "I don't know... what am I?" She looked at the zombie corpses. "My god... is she the source of my power?"

"No! I mean... what is she? Alive? Or dead?"

"Why ask what?" Came a familiar British voice.

"When the delicious question is 'when'?"

Percy and Elizabeth spun around to see the Lutece twins digging a pair of graves. Well... that was morbid.

"The only difference between past and present..."

"Is semantics."

The ex-Pinkerton's head pounded. Past and present... semantics...

Robert continued on. "Lives, lived, will live."

"Dies, died, will die."

"If we could perceive time as it truly was-"

"What reason would grammar professors have to get out of bed?"

Percy and Elizabeth exchanged a confused glance. It was then that he noticed that the twins weren't digging random graves... they were digging their own.

"Like all of us, Lady Comstock exists _across _time."

"She is both alive _and_ dead, in her current state."

"She perceives being both."

"She finds this condition... disagreeable."

Elizabeth tugged on Percy's arm and pointed at something behind him. "Look!"

A ghostly trail was marked through the grass. Almost like... "Footsteps..." Percy muttered.

"She goes to unfinished business." Rosalind explained curtly.

Percy gestured at the... the trail blazers? He wasn't sure what to call them. "We have to follow her, convince her somehow to open the gate to Comstock House."

He expected a response from Robert or Rosalind, but they had dissapeared. Of course. "Let's go, kid."

They retraced their steps back to the entrance of the graveyard, where the twins appeared yet again. It was odd of them to show up this frequently. "It's a shame you have need of her to enter Comstock House." Robert said, not sounding as if he thought it was a shame at all.

"Frankly, she doesn't seem all that cooperative." Rosalind added.

"But there IS a way to bring her to reason."

"Three truths you must discover first."

"Truths which, in this world, Comstock has destroyed."

Rosalind smirked. "If only one of you had the ability to alter time and space."

Robert mimicked her facial expression. "That would be a blessing, wouldn't it?"

The two disappeared in a stylish flash of light. Percy turned to his partner. "Well... they're sarcastic."

Elizabeth led the way back out into the street. "There's something... off, about Lady Comstock."

Percy gave her an incredulous look. "What was the giveaway? The fact that she looks like a ghost or her ability to summon the dead?"

"N-No, you don't understand." Elizabeth replied, turning to look at him. "She... she doesn't... belong here. I brought SOMETHING through, I just... I'm not sure it was her."

Percy frowned, having no idea what she meant. "Anyway, you up for finding out more secrets about our beloved Prophet?"

"If it gets us into Comstock House, of course."

The trail of footprints led them first to the residential area of the Market District. The only conflict they ran into was a few scattered Vox Populi, which Percy easily mopped up without aid from his younger partner. The final footstep was right in front of a grand-looking house. A sign above the door denoted that there was risk of death or serious injury if they entered the place.

Elizabeth got to work on picking the look into the home, while Percy noticed something on the window - something like a sign you might see for a store. "'Lutece Laboratories'... so this is where our friends made science happen." He muttered.

"It would seem so." Elizabeth replied, probing the look. "It's strange to think of them as having... normal lives, you know?"

"Yeah."

They entered the home, which seemed to serve not only as lab but as the Luteces' house as well. Back when they were alive, anyway. The sound of whirring machine came from the living room. "Let's check upstairs first, and then see what that thing is." Percy suggested.

Elizabeth followed him up the set of stairs and into a bedroom. A single bed was pushed messily against the wall in the corner. Percy noted it, oddly. "D'you reckon they shared the same bed, or...?"

"I don't see another one here." The two met eyes and came to the same conclusion at once. "You don't think they were..."

Percy looked at the bed with eyebrow raised. "If you're in an... intimate relationship with an alternate version of yourself... is it incest? Or just narcissism?"

Elizabeth looked confused. "I...I have no idea."

"Add that to the list of things to ask Lutece later on, I guess."

There was a voxaphone left conveniently on the bed; Percy pressed play and listened.

**"Comstock has sabotaged our contraption. Yet, we are not dead. A theory: we are scattered amongst the possibility space. But** **my brother and I are together, and so, I am content. He is not. The business with the girl lies unresolved. But perhaps there is one who can finish it in our stead."**

Percy and Elizabeth shared a stunned look. "'One who can finish it in our stead'..."

"They hired you to rescue me?" The young woman asked in surprise.

The man rubbed his forehead. "I... I don't know. I... can't remember."

Elizabeth put her hand through her hair, thinking. "That would... that would make sense... I guess. But why you?"

Percy shrugged. "They said that they knew Annabeth... but I think it's more than that."

They headed downstairs and made straight for the living room. A large machine was in the center of it. "Wait... I've seen that thing before! Or at least something like it." Percy said, gesturing at the strange device.

"Where?"

The Tesla coils, the strange energy coming from it... "Annabeth had a machine like this." He said to himself in disbelief. "I... I saw it in a dream!"

She looked at him weirdly. "Wait, what?"

Suddenly a Tear appeared in the middle of the device. Elizabeth broke off her line of questioning to examine it. "Hmm... there's something strange about this Tear. Should I open it?"

"Go ahead."

_"You... you whore!" _Cried a voice through the Tear. Percy vaguely recognized it as Lady Comstock, from the various recordings he'd heard of her.

_"I assure you, madame," _Came another voice. This one was definitely Rosalind's. _"My sexual interest in your dear Prophet is non-existent."_

"Huh... so your mother thought that Rosalind was sleeping with Comstock." Percy pondered. "She doesn't seem the type."

"What do you mean?"

"She clearly dislikes the man."

_"Furthermore, the man is quite sterile. The baby is product of our machine; nothing more."_

_"That's a lie! Come and get your little bastard, I want her OUT of my house!"_

Percy looked at her in shock. "Sterile..."

"They weren't my parents. You were right." Elizabeth said, as if she couldn't believe it.

"Then... I wonder what you were to them."

"A child that they... decided to imprison." The young woman spat out, barely able to contain her anger. "That bitch deserved whatever Comstock did to her."

"Hey!" Percy cried. "Watch the mouth."

She gave him an incredulous look. "What? You swear all the time."

"Yeah? Well I'm also not a role model. So don't do it."

They searched a nearby kitchen, where Elizabeth found another voxaphone. "Should I play it?"

"Go ahead.

**"Comstock seems to have been made sterile by simple exposure to our contraption. Intrigued by this, I decided to question Robert on the phenomenon. He reported that he has... irregularities, shall we say, in sperm production. Me? I have experienced nothing of the sort. A theory: Our device affects only men, not women, in this regard. And only those with repeated exposure to the device."**

**[[[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I did change the contents of that voxaphone. Please read it.]]]**

Elizabeth shook her head. "How is that important to us?"

"Hell if I know. Let's keep looking for more Tears."

* * *

They followed the footsteps all the the way back to the area where they first arrived in Downtown Emporia, before heading into the Bank of Our Prophet. The room was full of dead civilians - clearly killed by the Vox. AN elevator in the corner gave them access to the actual bank.

As they rode up the elevator, Percy tried to strike up a conversation. "I'm guessing Comstock had his wife killed."

Elizabeth glanced at him with a thoughtful expression. "I thought the same thing. She knew that I wasn't some 'miracle child'."

"And anyone who knew the truth-"

"Was better dead than alive." The girl finished, shaking her head.

"Y'know, I used to think that your father was just a racist zealot. Now I'm starting to think that he's an EVIL racist zealot."

She glared at him. "He's not my dad."

"Right, sorry."

She took Percy's hand and sighed. "Do you think there's a way to find my family?"

"Probably not. Comstock stole you when you were young, so -"

"What if the Prophet didn't steal me, what if... what if my family didn't want me?" She looked sad. A few days ago, she might've cried. "What if they just gave me to Comstock?"

Percy looked her in the eye. "No sane man would ever give away his child - especially one as nice as you. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah... okay."

The elevator clicked open, and Percy scanned the large room who his Carbine. He eventually saw that there was in fact a threat - twenty or so members of the Vox, all waiting casually on the other side of the room. They were unaware he was here "Kid? You got anything that would help us get the jump on them?"

"I think so..." Elizabeth pointed to an angel statue near the group. She shut her eyes and tugged her hands downwards. The statue crumbled, sending bits of rock down to crush the enemies. Only one or two remained, who Percy picked off easily. "I need Salts." She said, out of breath.

"Thanks, kid. We'll look for some."

There were two areas on either side of the room - bank-telling counters, it seemed. Percy went to go rifle through one, while Elizabeth went to the other. As much as Percy knew it was morally wrong, he stripped all of the cash registers clean. He could use the money more than the rich; and the chances that any of this would go to anyone but the Vox was slim.

He did manage to pocket a few bottles of Salts. He met up with Elizabeth on the other side, and tossed a vial to her. "There y'go."

"Thanks." She said gratefully, downing the small bottle. "Guess what? Fifty percent of what everyone makes here goes straight to Comstock as a tithe."

Percy whistled. "Sounds like a lucrative business. Wonder if there are any prophet positions available."

Elizabeth laughed lightly. The two continued further into the bank, passing through abandoned halls. "What do you think Lady Comstock has to do with this place?"

"Who knows?"

They dropped down into a large atrium. At the end of the room was a huge door - a vault door. Percy turned behind him to see that the way they entered was originally a giant door as well, but the Vox had blown it up. "We're in the vault." He said in wonder. "But the Vox cleared it out. Shame."

"But that would be stealing."

"Yeah? So has everything else we've been doing for four days, then."

A Tear rippled into existence in front of several angel statues. "Hit it, Liz."

_"And if I do this, this... sabotage... all of their patents?" _Asked a familiar voice. Fink.

_"All of them, Mr. Fink." _Replied a voice that Percy didn't recognize.

_"Now... why does the prophet want these two killed?"_

_"The same reason Lady Comstock lies dead - the Lamb."_

Elizabeth glanced at Percy. "We were right."

_"And why does he want me to do it?"_

_"Because only YOU can make it seem like an accident." _The Tear closed.

The girl turned to her partner and shivered. "I don't think that's... the REAL Lady Comstock. I think she's... a combination of herself and my feelings towards her."

"Whaddya mean?"

"I'm just so angry." She replied, her voice shaky. "At her... a-a-and at the Prophet. I think... I think Comstock used those feelings and made... her. I'm the reason she's gone crazy."

"You didn't do it voluntarily. Don't worry about it. C'mon - let's go find that last Tear."

* * *

"A photography shop..." Elizabeth muttered to herself.

The footprints led them to small studio back near Victory Square. The studio was devoid of any significant loot or voxaphones. Percy leaned up against the counter. He gestured over his shoulder at a Tear. "Pop it open. We're nearly done."

She did so.

_"But you two are dead!" _Came a man's voice. "_I took your funeral photo!"_

_"Yes..." _Mused Rosalind Lutece._ "And made an absolute hash of it."_

_"One doesn't expect the picture of one's corpse -" _Started Robert.

_"To come across as so... lifeless." _The Tear closed.

"Well... that just confirms it." Elizabeth said. "He killed the Luteces... wow..."

The trip back to the entrance of Comstock House was thankfully a quick one. As they entered Victory Square, Elizabeth said to herself, "Comstock murdered his own wife... the scientists who gave me to him..."

"Anyone who knew was more useful to him alive than dead. He's despicable." Percy spat.

"And I'm not his daughter. I'm just some... specimen... to be poked and prodded."

"No, you're not." He grabbed both of Elizabeth's shoulders. "The things you've been through, kid... nobody deserves that. _We are leaving, _and you're never going to have to look back. Understand me?"

The young woman gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

She approached the kneeling statue of Mrs. Annabeth Comstock, and took a deep breath. "Rosalind Lutece is not my mother. And neither are you! But he killed you both... because of me."

A slight buzzing filled Percy's ears, as if the ghostlike-lady was watching them. Listening. "I know you hate me for not being your daughter, and I hated you for not being my mother."

Lady Comstock appeared, and glared down at Elizabeth. She wasn't... angry, it seemed. Well, she was; she just wasn't resurrecting any bodies to fight her false daughter. Elizabeth took a deep breath and continued to talk. "I owe you an apology! Comstock used me to bring you back; but a brought you back from a reality that I had built up in my own head! He pretended to love you, like he pretended to love me!"

_"Bastard child! Bastard child!" _Lady Comstock shrieked.

"I am NOT your husband's bastard! I am his victim! But my days of victimhood are done! We must forgive each other!" The ghostly lady began to lose her angry appearance. The dull buzz in Percy's ears calmed down.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "There is one far worse than you... or I."

The Lady stopped shaking, and said in a sane voice, "The Prophet... killed me..."

"Because you wouldn't keep his secret." Elizabeth confirmed. "The secret about me."

"If that's so..." Lady Comstock said, confused. She still had the appearance of the ghost, but she wasn't enraged like before. "Then why am I alive?"

There was something naggingly familiar about that voice.

"You're not alive... not in this world. But maybe this is you in another... in a different time... or maybe one where you two never meet."

"Or where I saved him?" The lady asked hopefully.

"Maybe... Is that possible?"

"Find out..." Lady Comstock began to blink violently, causing all different shades of green light to flash. After a few seconds, she flew straight into the gate to Comstock House, obliterating it.

The way to freedom was open.

The two dashed for it, not bothering to share words. They were so excited to finally be _done. _Asolitary lever summoned the bridge to Comstock House.

A lingering thought pecked at the back of Percy's thoughts. They'd experienced this about a gazillion times before. Every single time that Percy and Elizabeth were about to finish their journey, Fate decided to kick it back a few hundred more miles. The Hall of Heroes. The deal with Fitzroy. Chen Lin being dead. Swapping realities. Having to kill Fitzroy. And now needing to kill Lady Comstock...

They were locked in a circle of failing over and over again. But they kept at it. Were they any closer to Paris than they were that morning in Soldier's Field, after Elizabeth gave him the bracelet?

It was like he was an actor in a tragic play. He'd failed to help Elizabeth this entire time. If his job was to get her out of Columbia... then he'd done a horrible job. He'd failed again and again.

"Percy? You okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just... thinking." He cranked the lever hesitantly, expecting disaster. And disaster showed up.

A giant, black, shadowy figure swooped in out of nowhere and caused Percy to be thrown backwards on his arse. The thing landed in front of him.

Songbird. How typical.

The thing contemplated him for a seconds before switching its eye from green to red with a click. "Percy!" The girl he'd grown to love cried out.

"Run, kid!" He called back.

The giant mechanical beast picked up the man and hurled backwards into a building. He crashed through a window and felt a brief flash of pain before everything faded to black.

* * *

Clearly he wasn't out for very long, because he received no dream.

He came to his senses, coughing for air. He rose to his knee slowly before being paralyzed in fear. Songbird ripped a chunk out of the roof and dropped down in front of Percy, claw raised.

Looks like he wanted to make sure the job was done.

"Stop!" Came a voice he didn't expect to hear - Elizabeth's. She dashed in front of him, blocking Songbird's path. "Stop it! Stop it, don't hurt him!"

Of course, the giant mechanical monster didn't listen. He gently brushed his prisoner aside as he raised his claw to Percy.

"I'M SORRY!"

The giant metal talons stopped just inches in front of his face. The bird turned to look at Elizabeth with confusion. "I'm sorry..." she said, her voice having lowered a whole bunch. "I never should have left..." She was now crying. "I never should have left..."

Wait, what?

The bird's eye changed to green. "Take me back." The young woman pleaded. "Take... take me home." She forced her way into the creature's hand.

Songbird wrapped its arm around the girl, picking her up. As the beast lifted into the air, Elizabeth swung down, so close that Percy almost managed to grab her hand. "I won't forget you..." she muttered as the creature flew away.

A rage to a degree that Percy Jackson had never known in his life filled him. A pure paternal rage - similar to the one at Beggar's Wharf when he's saved the woman from the guards. And this was around a hundred times stronger. He felt like he could win an arm-wrestling match with Songbird. He surged to his feet. "ELIZABETH!"

He put on his Skyhook and used a few nicely placed freight hooks to get down to ground level. He figured that the only place the bird could've taken her was Comstock House. The bridge was still unfolding; so Percy had to wait. To vent his frustration, he shouted:

"SONGBIRD! WHEN I FIND YOU, I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS! I'VE KILLED A TITAN AND A GIANT, YOU'RE NOTHING! IF ANYONE DARES TO STAND IN MY WAY, YOU WILL BE TORN TO PIECES! I'M A DEMIGOD, AND I'LL MURDER YOU WITH NO EFFORT! I'LL BOIL YOUR BLOOD! YOU DON'T FUCK WITH PERCY JACKSON!

"AND COMSTOCK! YOU'RE NEXT! I'LL BE SURE TO MAKE YOUR DEATH SLOW AND PAINFUL!"

The bridge was finally passable, so Percy dashed onto it. This was, of course, when his relatively simple plan went to hell.

* * *

**You don't mess with the people Percy loves. Or else you'll end up very, very dead.**

**Oh, and some slightly sadder news. I will not be posting the ending of this story until after I beat Burial At Sea Episode 2 - mainly because that piece of DLC could change how we look at the ending. So I'll most likely need to tweak some things in the ending for this reason. And the Epilogue.**

**So yeah. Only three more chapters left: Comstock House, the Ending, and then the Epilogue. Almost done. Though there IS the chance of Vigorous Restitution: Burial At Sea happening, and I will most definitely have at least one spinoff of this going once the main story is done.**

**Expect the ending no earlier than March 27th.**

**-Face Hugz,**

**Professor Marmalade AKA The Daedric Prince of Crossovers **


	20. Twenty: A Wheel Spinning Round and Round

**I just beat Burial At Sea: Episode 2. ****And it doesn't fit with what I have written - or what I want to happen - for Vigorous Restitution.**

**The DLC is... breathtaking. In every way. It concludes the BioShock trilogy perfectly - so many characters get fully realized and fleshed out. Elizabeth, Fitzroy, Jack, Suchong, Fink...**

**It concludes BioShock flawlessly. But the major plot twists are all relevant to BioShock 1, save for a few. And it isn't something that I want to be present in Vigorous Restitution.**

**In the future, I may write a heavily edited version of Burial At Sea, which will probably be mostly original work on my part. Except for some stuff borrowed from Episode 1. So I'll start on that if I have time in the future.**

**Now I continue on, knowing that I'm free of canon DLC bonds.**

**FACE HUGZ,**

**Professor Marmalade, AKA the Daedric Prince of Crossovers**

* * *

_"There's a very poor case to be made for living right now. *Sigh*. I've continued on for years, existing for nothing. My loved ones are dead. I'm stranded here, where I don't belong. I barely even talk to anyone anymore. _

_"I don't know why I don't just end it. The Mauser is over there, on the table. It'd be a simple thing. Easier than committing Ancient Greek seppuku with Riptide. And yet... I can't._

_"I've gotten to thinking about that Brit's words, all those years ago. He said my sins were wiped away when I cleared my debts. That's nonsense, heaven and hell don't exist... But... let's say the old man is up in the clouds, somewhere. Waiting for me. Waiting to turn me back at the pearly gates because I don't believe in him... and because of what I've done..._

_"I think I'm afraid of God."_

-Percy Jackson (entry in his audio diary, 1910)

* * *

All around Percy, lightning crackled. He didn't care.

"COME AFTER ME IF YOU WANT!" He shouted at Songbird, who had flown out of sight. "I'M NOT LETTING YOU TAKE HER, YOU HEAR ME?! HUH? YOU FEATHERED PIECE OF SHIT!"

But when Percy made it to mid-bridge... he saw what looked like the wispy edges of a Tear. Then there was a blinding flash of light, and...

"Snow?" The man asked himself, looking at the falling stuff in wonder. "It's July..."

He took one more step and then fell to his knees, right into the snow. He coughed up a sizable amount of blood, and felt some trickled out of his nose. He wiped at it quickly, realizing sharply that he had, in fact, stepped through a Tear. But Elizabeth wasn't here to open it... the Luteces, perhaps?

Either way, he fought his way to his feet. There were a few grandiose statues out of the front of Comstock House, but frankly, he was too busy dashing past them to take note. He jumped in surprise when a small Tear appeared on the stairs.

_"Get your hands off of me!" _Elizabeth's voice cried. The inter-dimensional rift close as swiftly as it opened.

Percy kicked open the doors of Comstock House, and entered into a foyer. Another small Tear appeared. _"Just take me back to my tower!" _Elizabeth pleaded through the rift with terror in her voice. _"Please... please!"_

But nothing could prepare him for what waited in the next room.

The large atrium held a huge statue of a woman - easily the size of any of the Prophet's statues. The woman hefted a sword in her right hand. Above the statue were the words **OUR LADY ELIZABETH, GODSPEED THY JUDGEMENT.**

The hell?

Then the PA crackled to life. _"Some men dream of money; some men dream of love."_ Elizabeth's voice said. Her tone was angry, tired, and bitter - but it was definitely Elizabeth. _"My father dreamt of a flood of fire! We were given Eden, and we turned it into Sodom. Why do we deserve Salvation?"_

Percy felt sick... had he... had he failed? He needed answers. Now.

He sprinted past the statue and further into the Prophet's mansion. But before he could exit the room, however, another Tear appeared.

_"What is this place?" _Elizabeth's voice - the one Percy knew and loved - sounded terrified. _"What are you planning to do to me?"_

Percy white-knuckled his shotgun. If someone was trying to motivate him with these Tears, then it worked perfectly. He kicked open the door to the next room to find... something.

A whole bunch of people in white suits were scattered throughout the large room. They were doing things that didn't make sense - muttering to themselves, flailing their arms wildly, or banging their heads against the walls. They all wore George Washington masks too - like the one Elizabeth had worn back in Emporia. This place definitely gave Percy the creeps.

But the most foreboding of all was a poster on a wall - a figure with a large, bulbous head and trumpets for ears was drawn. **NO SIN EVADES HIS GAZE **was the caption. Creepy.

But then, Percy heard Elizabeth's voice again. _His_ Elizabeth's voice. Was she here too...? _"Please! I don't understand! AHH! AHHHHH!"_

"ELIZABETH!" The man cried, heading for the cries but seeing nothing.

The cries of fear continued to mock him. _"Please! Please, no no! No! NOOOO!"_ Her voice was full of pure pain - and it broke something inside of him. _"Please... please just tell me what I did! Please!" _She continued to plead. _"No, please! I'll... I'll be your daughter. I'll be your daughter!"_

Percy snapped.

"COMSTOCK! WHERE ARE YOU?!" He dashed for the cries of pain, not caring if he ran over the weird grey-clad figures. Percy rounded the corner - before coming face to face with the thing from the poster.

A powerful white light shone from his small, beady eye - his trumpet ears were tarnished brass and rusty. The thing looked at the demigod for a mere second before screeching and then dissapearing.

Percy whipped around to see that the crazy guys now had glowing eyes are were approaching him with knives and clubs raised. He rose his shotgun without hesitation. "BRING IT ON!"

He hit them with a Murder of Crows attack, and then fired four shotgun shells into the crowd. The... what were they exactly? People? Who cared. They had tried to stop Percy from getting to Elizabeth. So they died painfully.

Percy turned his attention back to figuring out where the voice was coming from. "Dammit!" He muttered to himself, realizing that she was behind a locked gate. A sign to the right said **Entrance only by WARDEN'S APPROVAL, Third Floor.**

He turned and noticed an elevator. Good. And a Tear appeared right in front of it.

_"Please... please, what is this place? Just send me back to my tower!" _Elizabeth continued to plead.

_"It's too late for that now, child." _A male voice responded back coolly. Percy didn't recognize him. _"Your father gave you a lovely home, and you chose to destroy it."_

_"He's NOT my father!"_

Percy stepped into the elevator, shaking with anger. He was going to get Elizabeth, and then they could skydive out of this place for all he cared. He wanted out of Columbia more than anything.

The elevator clicked open, and Percy followed the path denoted by signs as the way to the Warden's office. Along the way, he spotted what looked like a twisted version of the chair that brought him to Columbia - but with full restraints. A chair for torture.

A Tear appeared in front of the thing. _"Child, would you like to pray with me?" _Asked a kindly old man. Comstock, to be sure.

_"They're hurting me." _Elizabeth responded. Her voice sounded like shattered glass. "_Please, just let me go!"_

Comstock laughed coldly. _"We're going to cure you."_

_"I'm not sick!"_

_"Your spirit is. All I ever wanted was to see you live up to your full potential."_

The rift closed. Percy tried desperately to make sense of it all. Obviously, he was in an alternate reality where he failed to save Elizabeth. And these Tears... were they visions back into his reality? Or maybe scenes from this one? At an earlier time?

He headed into what seemed to be a wash room, following the signs. A Tear rippled into existence over the door.

_"I'm Doctor Pettifog, Elizabeth, and I'll be taking care of you." _The voice belonged to the doctor - now Percy had a name. This Pettifog man was going to die painfully.

_"Get away from me!"_ Elizabeth snarled in a low voice.

The doctor whistled. "_Defiant, even after all this time. Jackson just left you here, love."_

Wait, what? Percy had lost Elizabeth around an hour ago...

_"He will come!"_ Good, the girl still had some fire in her.

Percy squeaked through the next room, barely avoiding the gaze of one of those... _things. _The boy with trumpet ears. He figured that if he stayed out of his eyesight, he'd be able to sneak past. And he was right. He found the next Tear just outside the exit door.

_"The specimen needs to be destroyed!" _Pettifog cried. He sounded distressed. _"We couldn't even hold her in the tower. And now, the Prophet..."_

_"Destroy his heir?" _Another man asked in disbelief.

"_If we modify the procedure..."_ The doctor suggested, taking a deep breath, _"It would be safer for us all. It would seem like an accident."_

Elizabeth had that bastard scared. Good.

The next area was right before the Warden's Office - but of course, it was guarded. Not by those weird crazy guys, either - but by turrets. Percy possessed both of them quickly, hoping that they might be of use to him later. He found another Tear off to the side.

_"You're not eating, love." _Pettifog noted, sounding distressed. _"Is something the matter?"_

_"I'm not hungry." _Elizabeth's voice, once bright and happy, was now cold and bitter.

_"Well, you'll have to eat sooner or later. If you hold out for Jackson, you'll just starve yourself to death..."_

Percy headed up the stairs. How long had he been gone...? He scanned the area with his Carbine, looking for any soldiers. Thankfully, the place seemed to be empty. Another Tear was heard up ahead.

_"The child is ready." Comstock said confidently. "It's time."_

_"If we cure her... why do you think she'll do what you ask?" _Pettifog asked nervously.

_"My daughter haw two problems, doctor." _The Prophet continued on calmly._ "One is the condition your science will cure her of. The other affliction is of a spiritual nature."_

Pettifog hesitated._ "What affliction is that?"_

_"Hope." _The Tear shut.

Only a worm like Comstock could think that hope was an affliction... Percy was already planning creative ways of how to kill the man if they crossed paths again.

The next room was a small area full of... full of those creepy Founders masks. The decaying paper faces of Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, and Benjamin Franklin were glaring down at him. Famous and powerful demigods twisted into the purpose of a mad Prophet.

_"Your surgery is tomorrow, you know." _Pettifog suddenly said. Percy whipped around to see that a Tear had materialized behind him. _"You'd better eat. Hmmm... you still expect Jackson to burst in and rescue you, don't you?"_

_"He WILL come."_

_"It's been six months, love."_

Percy felt his blood run cold. "Six months..." Elizabeth had held out for him for _six months?_

He continued on through the mask shop, before finding a voxaphone. It seemed like he was picking up more and more of these lately. He pressed play, and listened carefully.

**"'Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.' But in the end, he is the one who'll have to pay down all of our accounts, won't he? Where does his guilt start ... and mine end?"**

The voice belonged to... Elizabeth. Percy went nauseous. This wasn't _his _Elizabeth - this was the old, tired version of the woman who he'd heard over the PA. So... after long enough... she would start to hate him.

He found himself near a projector next, in a mostly destroyed room. The PA system turned on yet again. _"A man once promised me he would free me of my chains. But he later abandoned me, to serve his own needs. But in some ways, I thank him: he showed me exactly how much faith our species deserved."_

Hearing that come out of Elizabeth's mouth was a punch in the gut.

Percy roared in frustration, and shot the projector for no reason with his handcannon. The thing exploded in a shower of sparks. The small display helped him feel better... but only just.

The PA propaganda continued. _"I did not always love the Prophet. In truth, I ran from his embrace. I even denied that I was his daughter..._

_"I followed a man who seemed to be everything my father was not. That man was a False Shepard; and when the wolves came for me, he was nowhere to be found."_

He failed. In this reality... Elizabeth hated him. Thought that Percy abandoned her. Accepted... COMSTOCK... over him.

He wasn't angry at the woman. No; he was angry at himself.

He wasn't going to fail her again. No matter who he had to slaughter to make sure of it.

Just before he entered the Warden's Office, he found two more voxaphones.

**"As the days pass, I believe less in God and more in Lutece. My powers shrivel as my regrets blossom. All of this because my father failed me. By the time I realized how far I'd gone, it was too late to stop it. But there is still one last chance at redemption- for both of us."**

Wait... so... her father failed her? Comstock? That didn't make sense. One last chance at redemption... "for both of us"... What did that mean?

**"Tomorrow, the leash comes off- because all of this ... has to end. But even if I destroy the Siphon, will I be strong enough to see all the doors, and open whichever I choose? And if I bring him here, who is to say that he would be any match for the monsters I have created?"**

So... the Elizabeth who'd gone on to become the second Prophet... SHE brought him here? To try and solve things. But... how?

It didn't matter. He flipped the switch that opened the gate, and then dashed all the way back down to it. He kicked open the door. "ELIZABETH?! Where are you?" He called out. He hustled to the source of her cries... and saw a Tear. The Luteces stood behind it, smiling.

"What's with the Tear? What's going on here?" He demanded, holstering his handcannon.

"Why do you ask 'what'?"

"When the delicious question is 'when'?"

Percy stomped his foot. "I don't have time for this! Tell me what's going on here or get THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!"

The twins glanced at each other. "You seem rushed, Percy." Robert noticed.

The demigod marched right up to the man's face. "I have heard Elizabeth being _tortured. _In this world, she rejected me. For Comstock! She gave up hope! She... she HATED ME! I failed! So I'm fucking sorry if I'm a little disagreeable at the moment, but I don't care! Move!"

The two shared another glance before shrugging simultaneously. "Suit yourself, Jackson." They disappeared.

Percy charged into the last room, Carbine raised. He began to scan the room when he heard a calm, familiar-yet-alien voice.

"As you can see, Percy, the lunatics are running the asylum." A woman said grimly. Her silhouette was present at the end of the hall - she seemed to be on a balcony of some kind.

"Elizabeth..." The man muttered, approaching her slowly. He slung the rifle over his shoulder.

"They don't even listen to me anymore." The woman said sadly. "All I can do is watch as what I set into motion slides into it's terminal stage. It took all I had left in me JUST to bring you here."

"Elizabeth!" Percy stammered, unsure of what to say. "I was... I was coming! I heard you screaming, I-"

"Here..." She said weakly, gesturing to the stairs. "Join me."

Percy did so, ascending up the steps. As Elizabeth's face came into the light, he realized... everything. The woman was in her nineties. She wore a dress similar to what she'd worn at the end of their travels together, but much more conservative. She seemed... ready to die.

And then an explosion rocked belong. Percy looked down to see the source and went weak at the knees. His city was burning.

New York City was being rained upon with bombs and fire. Columbia loomed over the metropolis with a steel cloud. A few scattered American aircraft were trying to fight back, but they were no match for Columbia's weaponry. The cries of dying men, women, and children were heard in the street. "The Seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne... and drown in flame the mountains of man." Elizabeth said simply.

Percy didn't know what to say. "I... what year is it?"

"It's December 31st, 1983." Elizabeth said sadly. "Seventy-one years since Songbird took me away."

He felt sick.

"Oh, you were persistent. Reports were that you tried to rescue me twenty-two times until you finally died." She said it as if it were an apology. "In the end... it wasn't the torture that broke me. It wasn't the... indoctrination. It was time. Time rots everything, Percy. Even hope."

"I was coming..." Percy muttered desperately in disbelief.

"No. In every single universe, Songbird stops you. You never succeed."

The former Pinkerton fell to his knees in despair. He took a deep breath. "We're just actors on a grand stage. A tragedy... every time. We're a plaything of fate, is that it? The gods... or God... can laugh at us forever, watching us blunder around hopelessly."

Elizabeth hesitated. "It is a tragedy in more ways than one. You two shall soon find out why." She handed Percy an envelope. "I brought you here for a reason. It's too late for me. But... not for you. Or her."

Percy accepted the small parcel curiously. "What is this?"

"It's for her." The old woman said simply. "A cipher. She'll know how to read it."

The man looked down at the ornate envelope. "What does it say?"

"It's... advice."

"Advice on what?"

"How you can break the circle." She spread her arms, and there was a flash of light.

When Percy's vision came back... he was in a sun-drenched parlor. God Only Knows by the Bee Sharps was playing on a nearby phonograph. Percy nearly crapped his pants when he realized what had happened.

"I'm back... 1912... this is before she... there's still time!"

Elizabeth was still waiting for rescue. Percy... he hadn't been gone long. He could do it! A door was at the other end of the room. That had to be the way. He dashed towards it, shotgun at the ready, and kicked open the door.

Elizabeth was inside of some kind of... glass surgery area. The stuff was most likely bullet proof. She was restrained to a surgery table - all except her naked upper half. They had the decency to leave her with the skirt, at least. Something appeared to be in her back - a needle. Not a small one, either.

And above it all, Comstock stood on a balcony, watching. Of course, he was also shielded by the glass.

"COMSTOCK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER!" Percy demanded.

The man looked down at him and laughed. "Mr. Jackson! What's the expression? 'Day late and a dollar short'?" The man turned and walked away.

"I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL!"

Elizabeth looked weakly to her left. "Percy!"

"Shit! Turn on the machine!" One of the operators ordered.

The Siphon speaker-things sent beams of light at Elizabeth, who shook wildly with pain. "No. No! Turn it off! TURN IT OFF! PLEASE! Please, it hurts!"

"Kid, hold on! I'll be right there!"

Comstock's voice was heard over the PA. "Do you hear that screaming, Jackson? That is the sound of your interference! You've led my daughter into temptation!"

"SHE IS NOT YOUR DAUGHTER!"

"Perhaps not now. But trust me... she will be."

Percy dashed for an open door on his right. There must've been a way to shut off those vile machines up where Comstock was. As soon as he entered the corridor, he was accosted by five Founders. "YOU'RE DEAD!" Percy threw a Bucking Bronco at the guards, and then a Murder of Crows. "YOU LIKE THAT? HUH?" He also tossed in a Devil's Kiss for good measure. "YOU'RE NOTHING! YOU CAN'T TOUCH A DEMIGOD!"

He then spotted an open doorway where a huge metallic tube was leading out. The power generator! He stormed up the stairs, shotgun raised. A doctor was in the corner, cowering. "Please... Jackson! I don't want to die."

"Shame. You shouldn't have messed with my loved ones, then." A shotgun shell later, and the quivering weakling was dead. Percy used his Skyhook to slice the power cords off.

"Shit! He's shut down one of the generators!" A doctor said to the other.

"If he shuts down the other..." The voice belonged to Pettifog. Speaking of quivering weaklings who would soon die... "We must sedate her!"

"We ARE NOT sedating her!" The other doctor responded back with.

Percy rushed back out into the main corridor. The other generator was just a few meters away. But some more guards showed up. Percy threw out a Bucking Bronco, and then quickly cut them down with his Broadsider. As much fun as it was messing with people, he didn't have time.

He took a second to execute the other generator watchman with his handgun before cutting the power. As soon as the second generator shut down, a Tear opened up in front of the main door. It quickly expanded, showing a tornado ripping through the American Plains.

That's his girl!

"Jackson! Turn it back on! Please!" Pettifog pleaded.

The tornado destroyed the glass and sucked the two doctors into it before Elizabeth finally closed it. She laid flat on her on the table, panting hard. "I'll be right there, kid!"

He ran at top speed to the girl, navigating up some wreckage. "Percy... you came..."

"I'm here... it's okay..." Percy muttered. "I'm never letting you get away ever again. You here me? Never."

He found a button that popped off her restraints. He took her hand and helped her up slowly, remembering the giant needle in her back. "Okay... I'm gonna try and fix this. You ready? On three."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Yeah."

He grimaced a bit. This was a trick that Will Solace taught him years ago. "One..." He ripped the cable out of her back, while she let out a short, pained yelp.

"What the hell was that?" She demanded.

"A trick a medic friend of mind gave me. Didn't want you to get worked up." The wound the cable left wasn't large and it wasn't bleeding - both good signs. "Alright. Where's your corset and jacket?"

Elizabeth pointed meekly to a tattered pile under he operating table. Percy tied up her corset in silence, unsure of what to say. Finally, he said what he knew he owed the woman. "I have something for you." He stopped working to hand her the envelope.

"What is it?"

"Just read it."

Percy went back to tying up the clothing, until he was finally done. At this point, Elizabeth spoke up. "Your dream of New York... happens. And it's me... I'm the one who..." She yelped in pain as she rose to her feet.

"She's given us a way past Songbird." Percy said coolly. "We'll get us an airship, and -"

"Percy..."

"Paris, Elizabeth! You... you wanted to go to -"

"We're not leaving." The young woman said in a serious tone. "We are going to find Comstock."

"Why?" Percy asked exasperatedly. He was so done with this city... he didn't care if the evil bastard lived or not.

"You saw what he turns me into!" Elizabeth slipped on her jacket. "I will NOT allow that. And he _will _follow us forever unless we take care of him!"

"And so what, you're going to kill him?"

The young woman turned towards him with surprise. "Is this where you start moralizing, Percy? I _know _you."

Percy said nothing as he looked down to strap on his Skyhook. "I'm not going to let you kill him."

When he looked up, the girl had opened the Tear to the tornado again. "Really, Percy? What are you going to do to stop me?"

He shook his head. "Not a damn thing. Because I'm going to do it for you."

She shut the Tear and took a big breath. "Let's go, then."

"Well... now to find the Prophet." Percy said, leading the way towards the door.

Elizabeth slid her hand into his. "Comstock's zeppelin is outside. The Hand of the Prophet, he calls it."

"That's convenient. Kill two birds with one stone." The duo moved up the stairs, heading for the back door. "How long were you here?" He asked quietly.

"A few days. I... I almost lost hope, but I... I couldn't. I knew you would save me." She gave him a genuine smile. "You always do."

Percy only shrugged. "I'm very protective of the people I love."

Elizabeth blushed a bit as they entered an elevator to the outside. She pulled out the letter from Old Elizabeth and studied it, dropping his hand. "This doesn't make sense." She complained, squinting. "Everything here is a cipher that I understand, except for this symbol..." She gesture to it. "A cage. Did she say anything to you about this?"

"No."

They emerged into a library of sorts - one that had a huge window on the side. Elizabeth rushed to it and pointed to a massive ship. "That's his flagship. We need to get on board."

"You could stay here." Percy offered. "I can handle it, then I steer the thing back to pick you up! Easy as pie."

The young woman only shook her head. "No. We're doing this together, or I'm doing it alone." She met his eyes. Did she not trust him? "Either way, I need to know the thing's been done."

The PA crackled. _"Oh, Jackson. You struggle against prophecy, like stone loosed from a string."_ Comstock taunted.

"I'm coming for you." Percy said under his breath.


	21. Twenty-One (End): Dies, Died, Will Die

**No Voxaphone BS today. Let's get right into the ending.**

* * *

The two headed outside after a quick lockpicking job from Elizabeth. They emerged out onto the roof of Comstock House - and then some Columbian militarymen came in on airships. And then... a bomb-shaped thing fell towards the rooftop. "Take cover!" Percy ordered, diving behind a column. But... the thing didn't explode... "Is it a dud?" He asked aloud.

"No! It's-" A Motorized Patriot burst out of the shell, Crank Gun raised.

"OF COURSE there's a dead president trying to kill us! Why not?" Percy cried.

_"Look around you, Elizabeth!" _Comstock's sweet and kind voice called over the PA. _"I built all of this for you! You are my heir, and my blood! And what has Jackson ever done for you? To him... you are what you always were... a means to an end."_

"Don't believe him!" Percy cried as he knocked a few soldiers off of Columbia using his water powers.

She responded by making a statue crush a few more of Comstock's men. "I'm not that stupid, Percy!"

The demigod moved deftly from cover to cover, taking out soldiers with his carbine while avoiding the Patriot's gun. He eventually eliminated everyone except for the big ugly automaton. "I can help!" Elizabeth reported. She brought a turret through a Tear, which managed to attack the Patriot's weak spot - his exposed gears. The thing fell over, dead.

"Okay. Nice work. Any plans now?"

Elizabeth scanned the environment. "Uhh... there! There's a shuttle! It'll take us to the flagship!"

"Sounds good to me. Let's go!"

The two boarded the aircraft, which left the dock immediately. _"We depart to the Hand of the Prophet!"_ An automaton reported cheerfully.

Elizabeth leaned up against the control panel. She took a deep breath, and looked her partner in the eye. "Do you think... it's possible to redeem the kind of things that we've done?" She finally struggled out.

"Redeem?" The man shrugged. "I don't see much use in that."

"Percy..." she said wistfully, taking his hand. "Are you afraid of God?"

The demigod had to think about that. He took a deep breath, before answering honestly. "A little. But I'm more afraid of you."

Before Elizabeth could retort, a horn sounded. She looked in the direction of the noise. "Comstock's men... they're coming to meet us." She said gravely.

Percy readjusted his Skyhook. "You watch the ship - use Telekinesis or... _something _to defend it."

"I won't let you down."

"I know. Trust me, you could never let me down."

He pointed his Skyhook at the the enemy gunship. "Please don't strike me down, Zeus..." He jumped, and the magnet took over. He dismounted from the enemy freight hook a knocked the four enemies off with a water attack. Satisfied, he then swung back to his home shuttle. "Okay. That was easy enough." He said to Elizabeth.

"You spoke too soon! Mosquito turrets!"

Percy popped the flying sentry guns with Broadsider rounds, breathing in relief that Fink had designed them in the idiotic way that he did. "Okay."

"Another gunship, on the left! And one of the guys has rockets! I'll use my Vigor to bounce them away, but you be careful."

"'Careful' is my middle name."

After another quick job up at the enemy ship - a nice Bucking Bronco and a few well placed handcannon bullets - Percy spotted two airships in the distance, going at it. One red, one blue... he cursed, and then made his way back to Elizabeth. "The Vox are coming to attack the flagship!"

"Great. We needed more bad guys to worry about."

Thankfully, they neared the Hand of the Prophet a minute or so later. The Vox and the Founders were still battling in their gunships around the place - good for them, as far as Percy was concerned. They could fight their little civil war for all he cared.

As they made ready to land on the the airship, Elizabeth said, "Okay. We need to land on the bottom of this thing and fight our way up to him!"

"Or..." Percy muttered to himself, "We could just fly this thing to Paris."

His partner crossed her arms. "Just drop me off if you want to. This isn't your problem, Percy."

"Are you kidding me? We're a team. A dynamic duo. You're the best damn wingman to ever don a dress." The young woman blushed at his attempt at a compliment. "And more importantly... I won't abandon you."

Elizabeth looked at him, a bit softer. "You wouldn't... would you?"

The gunship pulled into dock. "Okay. So we fight our way up to Comstock. That's the easy part." Percy said, striding into the dock with Carbine in hand.

The PA system came to life. _"Look at Jackson, child. There's something about him you just can't put your finger on... soon, you'll understand. You'll understand the man I am and the man he isn't."_

"Yeah. I'm not bat-shit insane!" Percy cried back. "C'mon. Let's go."

Elizabeth's face showed hesitation for about a millisecond. But Percy still saw it. "Sure. I'm right behind you."

There were ten or so Founders on the first deck - cannon fodder, really. Elizabeth pulled in a few turrets and all of them were dead in minutes. They eventually reached a Skyrail station. "The lines are covered in the Motorized Patriot pods." The girl noted.

Percy nodded. "I wouldn't touch the Skyrail if they're here. Uhh... I think this button'll clear the line." He pressed a large red one. And sure enough, the pods began to be dropped off out of Columbia one at a time.

_"I have seen the seeds of fire that will prepare the Sodom Below for the coming of the Lord." _Comstock said. His voice was tired, and he didn't bother to pour in the charm he usually did. _"But it will not be I who carries that banner up the hill. That job... falls to you, Elizabeth."_

"In your dreams." Percy's partner said under her breath. "Okay, the Skyrail is clear! Let's move."

Elizabeth picked up a Skyhook from a fallen soldier, and the two sped along the line while Comstock spouted nonsense to his troops. _"On one side of our Lamb is the False Shepard; and the other, the remnants of the heretical Vox Populi!"_

They hopped off the rail, and Percy shot a Founder straight in his face with his Broadsider. _"Is there one of you who would not gladly go to heaven in order to see our future restored. Rejoice! Death has no sting!"_

That almost made Percy feel bad. Keyword: almost.

The force on the main deck was even weaker than the force on the first deck. "GOT A REAL CHALLENGE FOR US, COMSTOCK?!" Percy cried.

Elizabeth tugged on his arm. "Save the threats for later. We have to clear another line." She hit the red button, and the first pod slowly creaked towards the drop-off point. "Something's wrong."

"Why are they dropping so slowly?" Percy asked no one in particular. "Gah, we're gonna have to wait it out."

_"Death to the False Prophet!" _Came a war cry to the demigod's right. A cluster of Vox ships were making ready to board.

"Of fuckin' course there are more guys to shoot."

It took the Skyrail a full two minutes to clear. In the mean time, Percy was in a desperate fight against the well-armed Vox Populi. He knew that they'd brought most of their men here - with Fitzroy dead, the only thing that could validate their cause was Comstock's scalp. He only managed to pick off a few before fleeing with his Skyhook, Elizabeth in tow.

"On more deck to go!" She shouted over the wind.

_"I may be the one who strikes you down, Jackson." _Came Comstock's voice. _"But you've always had a knack for self-destruction. Who's to say you won't beat me to the punch?"_

They dismounted onto Deck #3 - an indoor area. Percy stormed into it, Carbine at the ready. He lowered it when he saw that it was empty. "This is... odd." He said.

Of course, he regretted those words when he heard the demented cry of "FALSE SHEPARD!"

A Handyman dropped nearly on top of Percy, who managed to dive out of the way on sheer luck. "You ugly bastard! I've already killed one of your brothers!"

The thing roared at him. The ex-Pinkerton managed to pull out his handcannon and try and aim at the monster's heart... but it was too late. The Handyman picked him up and whipped him against the wall. Percy felt his head smack against the metal. "PERCY!"

Elizabeth snatched up the man's discarded Broadsider and pulled the trigger three times - all three struck the beast in the heart. It slumped over. She was a helluva shot... But he could feel his world fading to black.

"Percy! Stay with me. Uh..." She grabbed a nearby medical kit, and rifled through it. She pulled out an absolutely huge needle - filled with glowing green liquid.

"The hell is that thing?" He asked groggily.

"It's, uhh..." She squinted to look at the label. "Vitae. I think it's just opium. It'll help the pain."

Percy tried to inch away from her. If she saw the marks on his arm... "No. Nonononono..."

"Oh stop being a big baby! You've taken morphine before -" She rolled up his sleeve and recoiled. "SEVEN? You've taken it seven times in the last... what, few days?"

Shame filled Percy's head. It was true - whenever the girl wasn't looking, he'd sneak a taste from a looted body. He'd only been doing it since they arrived in Emporia. He'd barely acknowledged it himself. "Yeah... I guess..."

"Percy? Do you have a problem?" She asked delicately.

"No, I... I can't bear the pain. Throw in the Vitae, screw it." Percy pleaded.

"I can't believe you've been doing this behind my back! Do you know how dangerous morphine is?"

"I'm a half-god, kid! I can handle it." He stared at the needle. It looked... strong. It was probably excellent. "Inject me. Now."

"No." Elizabeth threw the painkiller down a chute - sending it down to the Earth below. "You might overdose."

Percy glared at her and then struggled to his feet. No serious injuries. Just... pain. And he knew how to deal with that. Though the morphine definitely helped. No! Those were impure thoughts. "We're a stone's throw from Comstock. We can worry about this once we get to Paris."

She looked at him with doubt. "Okay..."

They boarded the Skyrail, where Comstock tried to speak to them once more. _"You've come to wipe your slate clean, False Shepard. But time will walk backwards before you find redemption. Some sins can't be forgiven."_

Percy and Elizabeth dismounted onto the final deck - right outside of Comstock's location. "What is he talking about, Percy?" The young woman demanded.

"I don't know." He said honestly. _Or maybe you just can't remember._

He pushed open the door to the cabin, and they arrived in a sort of... welcome area. Elizabeth flocked straight to a model of her tower, looking in particular at a machine located in between the Angel of Columbia's legs. "What's this... the Siphon?" She asked curiously.

"I saw this, back on Monument Island." Percy said. "I could hear you singing from above... and the machine came to life as a response."

"And then in my mother's grave... there was a smaller one." Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair. "They're draining me. That's why I can't... I can't..."

"Can't what?" Percy asked impatiently.

"When I was little, I used to be able not just to open Tears, but I could create new ones... to anywhere I wanted to go."

"Really..."

Percy examined some bronze carvings in the wall. They looked worn, and... glowing slightly. "These are in Celestial Bronze." He muttered.

"What?"

"The metal of the gods."

The first panel showed the Angel of Columbia, being destroyed. The next was Battleship Bay, with The First Lady flying above it. Next was the giant statue of Fink... "Wow. Maybe this nutjob _can _see the future." Percy said to himself.

The next window was of Elizabeth stabbing Fitzroy... with a pair of scissors. Then it showed Comstock House. And then... the last panel showed the Prophet in front of a baptismal font, arms spread. "Wow... there really is something to this, then..." Elizabeth said, in mild shock. "I bet he looked through Tears. That's how he does it."

"Probably." Percy drew his Broadsider. "Magic or not... stand back. I'm ending this."

"Percy..." Elizabeth threatened. "No." This is between me and him."

The demigod reluctantly sheathed his pistol. "You are walking into a trap-"

"I NEED to do this!" Gone was the girl that stormed out on Percy after killing someone. Heck, gone was the girl who had tears in her eyes when Songbird took her away. She wasn't messing around anymore. She was dangerous. And Percy was afraid of her.

She pushed open the door, leading to a colorful garden. A large mural of people praying under... Elizabeth... was in view above it all. And in the center of it was our Prophet, Father Zachary Hale Comstock. He stood in behind something that looked like a birdbath.

"C'mere, child." The Prophet offered, his voice returning the loving facade it usually wore. Elizabeth approached reluctantly. "Well come on, I don't bite!" Maybe if you didn't know the man, you might think that he actually cared for the girl.

She approached him cautiously, Percy staying back. "Tell me," she pleaded, "What am I?"

"Look at you, child, you're a mess." Comstock took Elizabeth's wrist lightly.

"Hey! Let go of her!" Percy demanded on reflex.

The Prophet took a sponge and washed the dirt from her hands delicately. "Elizabeth, everything I've ever done, I've done to keep you safe."

Elizabeth was starting to be taken in. This wasn't good... "Safe from what?" She asked.

"The Seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne, and drown in flame the mountains of man." The old man repeated. Percy noticed something that he hadn't put together yet - the man didn't SOUND old. He sounded around Percy's age... "But the archangel told me something else, too. 'Beware the False Shepard, Percy Jackson; for he shall act as a wall between her and destiny'."

Percy's hand went to holster. He didn't draw - but he was ready to at a moment notice.

Elizabeth appeared to be spellbound, as she looked into the Prophet's green eyes. "Why?" She asked in wonder.

Zachary Hale Comstock dropped Elizabeth's hand, and turned to address the False Shepard directly. "Jackson, I'm a fool. I've sent mighty armies to stop you, I-I've rained fire on you from above!" He shook his head. "We even share godly ancestry, Percy."

Percy's blood ran cold. "You're a demigod. A son of Poseidon..."

"Yes! But the gods abandoned me... as they have abandoned us all!"

"You've turned coat against everything we believe in! Your a zealot, a racist, a-"

"Do you think I'm truly a cartoonishly evil man who believes that the blacks should be locked up?" There was truth... real feeling in the man's voice. "No! What sane man can truly believe in such a thing? Or even God, for that matter? Did you really suspect that I think the Founding Fathers are deities? No. Racism and faith are... commodities."

"You're even worse than I thought." Percy spit. "You just... you don't even believe in your own cause! There are people in your city suffering, dying of disease because you wanted - what? Marketability?"

"More than marketability. What have the gods ever done for me, Percy Jackson? They abandoned us both as we were young! I'm trying to rival Mount Olympus, while you live in your past! Other than that... We're quite similar, you and I. We're both thirty-eight. We're both from New York. Both sons of Poseidon..." He set his mouth in a line. "You might even call us different sides of the same coin."

Percy just shook his head. This talk made it hurt. "This has nothing to do with Elizabeth!"

His Santa-Claus-esque face twisted into a smile. "Thousands of men have gone to their death to stop you... and all I ever had to do was tell her the truth."

Percy felt blood trickle from his nose.

He turned to his false daughter. "Ask him, child. Ask him what happened to your finger! Ask Jackson!" He grabbed Elizabeth and shook her.

Rage: activate. He lost control this time.

"SHE'S YOUR DAUGHTER, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Percy separated the two and grabbed the kindly old man by the throat. "YOU ABANDONED HER!" He slammed the Prophet'd head against the rim of the basin. Blood splattered. "Was it worth it? Huh?! Did you get what you wanted? TELL ME! TELL ME!" Two more bashes to the back of the head.

"Percy..." Elizabeth said behind him, her hand covering her mouth.

"It... is... finished..." The Prophet muttered. He was dying.

The former Pinkerton shoved his half-brother's head into the baptismal font. With how weak he was, there was a definite chance he would suffocate - breathing underwater still took some power. "NOTHING is finished!" He continued shouting. "You lock her up for her whole life! You cut off her finger, and you put it on me!"

"PERCY, STOP IT!" Elizabeth demanded.

The surviving son of Poseidon removed his hands slowly. The Prophet wasn't moving. He was dead in his own holy water.

A more than ironic way for a son of Poseidon to die.

"What did he mean?" The young woman suddenly asked with anger in her voice. "Huh? You tell me, what did he mean about my finger!"

She scared him at that moment. And it wasn't because of her powers. The way that she addressed him... he was terrified of losing her. "I don't know." Percy replied honestly. "I... I just assumed you were born with it, I don't know."

"Your nose... it's bleeding."

Percy touched the area above his lip to feel the hot liquid. His head suddenly throbbed in pain... the memories... they were almost there... he... he...

A Tear suddenly appeared next to the font. Percy looked at it, not exactly surprised. "Is this your doing?"

"No..."

* * *

The scene displayed in the little vision was of the place Elizabeth had seen in her dream. **"Camp Half-Blood." Percy said.**

**"What?"**

**"This place is Camp Half-Blood. it's a safe haven for teenage demigods. In Montauk, New York."**

It was summertime - the place was flooded with people. The areas around the cabins were full of people talking to one another - campers catching up after spending the school year back in normal society.

The scene closed in on a young version of Percy - probably seventeen or eighteen. And Annabeth. **"What clothes are they wearing? It looks so... odd." Elizabeth asked him.**

**"It looks normal to me."**

Annabeth was dragging Percy by the hand into Cabin Six - the glorious Athena Cabin. "So what's the big deal, Annabeth?"

"You'll see!"

She led him through a hatch in the floor, into some kind of subterranean laboratory. "If this thing you're going to show me is the reason you've quit architecture, hopefully it's absolutely brilliant and mind-blowing."

"It's both of those things."

Annabeth unlocked Door #17 and walked in first. "Tad-aa!"

There was a machine in the corner... Tesla coils sparked all around it... **"That's the Lutece Tear machine!" Elizabeth cried. "Why would Annabeth have it?"**

**"I don't know!"**

Percy eyed the thing nervously. "You didn't drag me down here to zap me, did you?"

"No." She grabbed a blue bottle out of a drawer to her right. "You just wait and see."

She fitted the small bottle into the fuel cell. And a Tear shimmered into existence. "Whoa! What in Tartarus is that?"

"That... is a inter-dimensional rift. I like to call them Tears."

Percy looked at it in wonder. "But... what is it?"

"You've heard of the idea of parallel universes, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I do watch a lot of movies."

Annabeth rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's stupidity. "This machine can manipulate the multiverse; it opens a rift to a different universe - and usually, a different time. Oh, wait! Hold on!" She grabbed a notebook out of a drawer. "What day is it? I nearly forgot - I like to keep track of this stuff. For fuel usage and such."

"It's June 29th, 2013."

**"Gah!" Percy's head throbbed. "2013..."**

**Elizabeth looked at him with confusion. "Wait... you're telling me..."**

Percy looked further into the Tear. "Uhh... I see a sign through this thing! It's March 15th, 1892 on the other side. Jeez... you could make some serious money with this thing, Annabeth."

"Well, it still random. The last few trials have been Victorian England. That... looks to be New York. Interesting."

Mischievous green eyes clashed with nervous grey ones. "Can we go through it?" He asked.

**"No..." Percy said, clutching his forehead.**

Annabeth shrugged. "We can always return back through it. The fuel will last... weeks. We don't have an issue there... I guess we could go have some fun for a change. And you can finally take me on a date that hasn't been gifted to you by a Greek god."

Percy grinned sheepishly. "Ladies first."

The couple went through the Tear, but the vision remained focused on the machine room. After a few seconds, someone entered the room. "Annabeth?" He asked. "You in here? Chiron's looking for you!"

The familiar accent belonged to Malcolm. He approached the machine. "I doubt she meant to leave it on." He shrugged, and then unplugged the power.

* * *

The Tear closed.

Elizabeth was staring with her jaw agape at Percy. "You're... you're not from..."

"I was born in 1994." The man confirmed. The raw, unabated truth entered his mind. "Annabeth's creation sent us back. Now I remember..."

Before the girl could think of anything to say, a new Tear appeared.

* * *

This was back in the 1890s, for sure. Percy was pacing nervously in what appeared to be a hospital waiting room. His Pinkerton suit was stained and patched.

**"This was the day that Annabeth died." Percy said, feeling vomit rise in his throat.**

A doctor entered the waiting area, and cleared his throat. "Sir?"

The Pinkerton's head snapped immediately to the man. "Yes?"

The man of science hesitated, before choosing his words carefully. "Your lover has just given birth to a beautiful baby girl."

Percy smiled. "That's what she wanted. She's going to be so happy... when can I see my daughter?"

"Um... in a little while. There's a more pressing matter at hand, however. Take a seat, Mr. Jackson."

The doctor sat down on a chair, and so Percy sunk into the one next to him, confused. "What's this 'pressing matter'?" He asked curiously.

"There's... there's no easy way to put this..." The man readjusted his glasses and took a deep breath. "Annabeth Chase didn't make it, sir. She died soon after she gave birth. We tried everything we had, but..."

Percy stared at the ground. His eyes... they seemed shattered. "My girlfriend didn't survive the birth?" He repeated slowly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson, but..."

"Annabeth... Annabeth, no..." Percy said to himself, tears falling down his face. "She can't be dead. She's... she's the only thing I have to live for!"

The doctor patted his arm a bit awkwardly. "With all due respect, Mr. Jackson... you have something else to live for now."

* * *

As the Tear closed, Percy vomited into the pristine garden. He didn't care.

"Oh my god..." Elizabeth said, her hand over her mouth. "I'm... I'm so sorry..."

"It didn't work back then, it isn't going to work now. Annabeth has been dead for twenty years." The private investigator looked at the ground meekly. "I need to... move on... but I can't... I never said goodbye to her..."

He took a deep breath. He didn't need to start crying in front of the poor girl. She looked distraught enough as it was. "Hopefully... that's the end of those." She said, with a brave smile.

Another Tear opened.

* * *

It showed Percy's small office apartment. A nineteen-year-old version of Percy Jackson was sitting behind a desk, leaning back. Clutched in his arms was a small child - an infant.

**The present Percy felt blood trickle out of his nose. "No... there... I wasn't..." Elizabeth merely looked on.**

A loud knocking was heard on the door. Past Percy got up excitedly. "Who's there?"

"An employer."

"Give me a minute!" He looked at the baby lovingly. "I'll be right back, Anna. Daddy's got someone to talk to, okay?"

**"Anna..." Elizabeth said in disbelief.**

The young man carried the baby girl into a side room and set her down into a crib. She gurgled and merely looked up at him. "Jeez, you're adorable." He walked back to the main room slowly.

Percy straightened his tie quickly and ran his hand through his hair. He opened the door, asking curtly, "Can I help you?"

The man in the doorframe was, without a doubt, Robert Lutece. "I've got a job for you, Jackson. May I come in?"

"O-Of course!" Percy grabbed a chair from the side of the room and dragged it up in front of his desk, so the two could sit. "Come on in."

The two got comfortable, and Robert lit a cigarette. "Dr. Robert Lutece at your service, Mr. Jackson." The two men shook hands. "I've got a job for you. One easier than any you've had before."

"I don't exactly do independent work..." The desperate man's eyes darted to the nursery. "But I'm game. What's the catch?"

Robert ignored the question. _**I guess we know he's always done that, **_**Percy thought. **"I work for a man willing to wipe your debts clean. A simple request is all that he asks of you."

The Pinkerton leaned back. "Who's this man?"

"A religious leader. Someone who I'm quite sure you wouldn't recognize." Robert said quickly. "He asked me to give you this." He pulled a small business card from his pocket.

Percy examined it close. "'Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt'. So what, this holy man of yours wants a girl recovered?"

"Precisely."

The Pinkerton stroked his facial hair. "Where's this girl?"

"Remarkably close."

Percy sat up, and stared the man in the eye. "What is her name?"

"Anna Jackson, sir."

The dead silence that followed couldn't have been cut by a Celestial Bronze blade. The detective and the doctor glared at each other - one's eyes fiery, and the other's calm.

"You want me..." The Pinkerton growled, "You want me to give you... my daughter? My own flesh and blood?"

"Please remain calm, Mr. Jackson." The Brit leveled, still keeping his cool. "Father Comstock doesn't wish any harm upon Anna. In your current state... he doesn't feel like you should be-"

"Raising my child?" Percy finished dangerously, rising to his feet. Robert flinched as he did so. "I made a promise to Annabeth... the day after she died. I said to her grave... I said that I wouldn't let her down. That her girl would grow up well. I'm doing my best, doctor."

The man nodded. "Well... you want the best for Anna, right?"

"Yes..."

Lutece swept his arm around the room, gesturing to the empty whiskey bottles and gambling tickets. "Mr. Jackson, I'm not sure if Anna will have a happy or pleasant life if she grows up in this place."

Percy's face filled with shame. "You don't have the right to-"

"Let me finish, Mr. Jackson." Robert said, in a patient tone. "If you truly love Anna... you'll do what's best for her. And you know that if she continues to live with you..."

"You don't have to tell me that I'm a bad father, Mr. Lutece. Trust me... I know." Percy hung his head in shame. "But... I'm... I'm trying."

"You know what you have to do."

The Pinkerton refused the make eye contact. He stared at the desk and took a deep breath. "This... 'Father Comstock'... what's his game? Huh? Why's he want my daughter?"

"The man wishes to not only erase your debt, but wipe your slate clean. Of sin. Those you have already committed, and those you will in the future." Percy paced nervously, rubbing his forehead. The man of science continued. "Breaking out of the circle of sin and corruption is nearly impossible, Percy. But Father Comstock is willing to help you in that regard."

Percy shook his head. "I don't believe in sin. But if there really is a God... then I'm already halfway to hell."

"Comstock is, for lack of a better word, a Prophet. He knows all of your sins - even the ones you aren't aware of. He has the ability to absolve you, now and forever."

"I just said, I don't care about any of that religious nonsense."

"Then think of it like this..." Robert was getting irritated by Percy's stubbornness. "He's willing to relieve you of the burden of fatherhood. He can give Anna the life your lover and you always hoped for!"

Percy froze, and then sighed. "You really think so?"

"I'm sure of it. Father Comstock is a kind man - he wouldn't hurt a fly."

The detective rubbed his forehead. "Let me say goodbye to her."

"Of course."

**"No... no!" ****Percy cried. His brain pounded... the last walls were crumbling...**

**"I thought you said you didn't have a child..." Elizabeth muttered in shock.**

Percy entered the nursery and picked up his baby. The girl looked back up at him with big, beautiful blue eyes. She already had a head of black hair. "Oh, Anna... I love you more than anything..." He said, bringing the child close to him. "I'm so sorry. I'm a failure as a father, I... if you stay here... you're better off with this holy man."

The baby gurgled in response, as infants often do.

_"_I'm sorry you were stuck with me as your dad. And Annabeth..." He looked at the wall, where a crude photograph of the young couple hung. "I've failed you, Annabeth. Please forgive me for this..."

He entered the main room, and handed Robert Lutece his child. "You make sure she's happy, Lutece."

The doctor smiled warmly. "Of course. Your debt has been paid. Father Comstock washes you of all your sins."

* * *

Memories came flooding into Percy's head as the Tear shifted scenes. "I sold... to Lutece..."

* * *

Percy was slumped over in front of his desk. He took out a picture of his daughter and cradled it, as if it were the only thing keeping him sane. Tears flowed down his face. Then... his face changed in a second. His eyes turned angry. "What have I done?" He asked himself, rising to his feet. He grabbed his handgun and sprinted out of the apartment, crying, "ANNA! ANNA!"

**Percy felt as though he'd been hit with a hammer. "I couldn't shoot at Lutece... I might've hit her..." Elizabeth just stared on in shock.**

When the doctor saw that the man was in pursuit, he broke into a run. Percy chased after the Brit, shouting threats at him through the New York streets. Rain was coming down - hard.

The scientist eventually ducked into an alley, where he handed a bearded man Anna. Percy turned the corner, handgun in holster. "Hey! The deal is off! You hear me?!"

The bearded man... COMSTOCK... turned to look behind him. A Tear was opened up, right into the side of a building. Robert made his way through, collapsing to the floor instantly. "GIVE HER BACK, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Percy cried, grabbing a hold of the Prophet.

The man managed to shrug away from Percy's grip and dart through the Tear. The Pinkerton grabbed his shoulder at the last possible second, and spun him around. Percy grappled for his daughter, while Comstock did the same.

"No... nonononono!" The desperate detective cried. "ANNA! ANNA!"

"Shut down the machine now, do it!" The Prophet ordered.

"GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!" Percy demanded. Comstock got the last push.

The Tear began to close. "NOOOO!" The last thing Percy saw his daughter do was reach out for him... and then the thing finally closed.

On Anna's finger.

**"Oh my god..." Percy said. His mind throbbed, as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.**

The severed digit fell to the ground, spurting blood. The version of Percy in the vision weeped out, "Anna... Anna... no! I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Anna..."

* * *

The Tear closed.

Percy was absolutely stunned.

He turned slowly to see Elizabeth, who seemed equally in shock. He held up his hands in her direction... he was shaking violently. "Anna... Elizabeth..."

She was his daughter. This entire time.

And he'd _sold _her.

"You sold me..." The young woman said slowly, as if she couldn't believe it. "You... you're... my..."

"To his credit, Miss Elizabeth, he did try to weasel his way out of the deal." Came the voice of Robert Lutece. He appeared in front of the exit with his sister.

"You told me..." Elizabeth turned on Percy, her voice angry. "You told me that no sane man would give up his... his daughter. You're... you're disgusting." She looked down at her pinky finger. "I can't believe I ever... I ever..."

Percy fell to his knees. "No... please, Elizabeth! Don't... don't..."

"You gave me away to... to him! I lost my childhood, because you couldn't stop gambling." A solitary tear was on the corner of her eye. "You're... you're no better than Comstock."

"No!" Percy cried out. "Kid... you are the _only _thing in my life. You remember what I said about love? I couldn't live without you. I made a mistake! I love you so goddamn much, I..." The former Pinkerton took a deep breath. "I came back for you! I rescued you!"

The young woman look sympathetic for just a few seconds before getting angry again. "You told me once that you can't wash away the things that you've done. You're right - you can't."

Percy felt his heart split in two.

He rushed to his feet, and Elizabeth took a step back in reaction. "Please, Liz. I'm not asking you to be my daughter. But now that we're back together again... If we lose this..."

Elizabeth glared at him coldly. "I thought I loved you as a father once. But now..."

"Don't say that! Please! I would do _anything _for you." Percy pleaded.

She was about to respond when an explosion knocked her off her feet. "What the hell?" She cried, as the two struggled to get back up. "What was that?!"

A voice cried out, _"How does that feel, Prophet!"_

Percy panicked. "It's the Vox Populi. They're here to kill Comstock." He looked at his daughter with pleading eyes. "No matter how much you hate me right now, there's a whole bunch of guys who want our heads on a platter. We need to find a way -"

Another explosion rocked the place, and the right wall sheared off. "Shit!" Percy cried. He looked to see... hundreds of gunships. Literally _thousands _of Vox Populi soldiers.

This was too much. Percy was still mortal, after all.

As the Vox began to board the ship, the former Pinkerton realized that this was probably the end. He turned to Elizabeth. "Kid... Anna... I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry about... everything. I've made your life hell. Your imprisonment..."

"I never got to go to Paris... that's all I ever wanted to do..."

Percy pulled out his Carbine. Time to make his last stand. "You wait in here."

"No! That's ridiculous. You'll die!"

He shrugged. "Yeah? And? You hate me - what do you care?"

Elizabeth only glared at him as an explosion rocked the room. "Let's move up to the control room, and see what we can do!" She said desperately.

As they entered the room clad in glass, a rocket flew through the window. Percy peeked onto the deck - hundreds were marching up to their position. A rising feeling of... release flowed through Percy.

He was a demigod. He wasn't supposed to live this long.

He white-knuckled his Carbine. "I'm gonna go out there and buy you time. You set this thing on course for Paris and you _do not _stop. For anything."

"Percy-"

The demigod swallowed his last feeling of dread. One thing Comstock had said stuck out to him: _Blood can only be redeemed with blood._

"No. This is when I go down in a blaze of glory for everything I've ever done wrong."

He sauntered out of the control room, ignoring Elizabeth's desperate pleas to reconsider. Hundreds of gunshots rang out at him. He summoned a wall of water without effort and blocked them all. He casually kept it up as he neared an intercom. He pressed it and said:

"Good ladies and gentlemen of the Vox Populi - I'm Percy Jackson. Son of a Greek god. False Shepard. Hero of Olympus. Martyr of the Revolution. Take your pick." By the this time, the bullets had stopped flying at him. "My daughter wants to go to Paris. So she's going there. You will not stop her. So... come at me."

Percy took a deep breath. He glanced up at the control room where Elizabeth was staring down at him, dumbfounded. "Get on the controls!" He commanded.

"This thing doesn't exactly move quickly!"

"I'll try to buy you as much time as I can!" Percy threw his first Devil's Kiss into the mob. "I love you!"

It suddenly occurred to him how odd it was that he didn't have Riptide with him. Didn't it magically appear in his pocket? He even remembered owning it after he was sent back to 1892 - it had taken the form of a pocket-watch then. Why didn't he...

A pointless thought. He could defend Elizabeth well enough without it. He let out a battle cry and emerged around the corner, Carbine raised.

The battle was a blur.

The old demigod put every last ounce of energy into the fight. He'd always been a great warrior, and the Vigors and his Lutece Shield only added to his potency. He wasn't sure how long the first wave took, but it seemed like a short amount of time, since he saw the floating buildings of Columbia around him.

The battle finally paused and Percy saw the damage he'd done. A hundred or so Vox soldiers lied dead. Progress... but more Vox ships were dropping off men. As adrenaline wore off, Percy felt that several bullets had pierced his shield - all of them flesh wounds. But he was still bleeding. And he didn't want to endanger his daughter by calling her down to patch him up.

He gritted his teeth and picked off a few Vox from a distance. They weren't even out of _Columbia _yet. He couldn't hold on long enough.

He noticed a sniper on the other side and swore. He was completely in the open. He quickly tried to summon a wall of water, but the high-caliber round sunk into his upper right arm. He fell to the ground in pain, feeling his vision fade.

No... he wasn't done yet.

He tried to aim his Broadsider, but faltered. The bullet had hit something important in his right arm - forget aiming his gun. He tried with his left hand vainly, but his missing middle finger messed with his grip. He fired a few stray bullets - all of them missed.

He tried a Vigor. Out of Salts.

Tried to manipulate water. Too tired.

He looked at his trusty pistol in vain. A dead man's gun. And he'd failed. _Again._

The unbroken circle.

As soon as he died here, the Luteces would pluck another Percy and send him on a doomed quest to find another Elizabeth.

Percy, Fitzroy, Comstock, Elizabeth, Lutece, Fink... he could never escape it. Like a wheel of blood spinning 'round and 'round.

No... _no..._

He struggled to his feet, feeling his Lutece Shield regenerating. He was close to the control room. He dragged himself up onto the platform, where Elizabeth was at the controls. She glanced at Percy. "I told you not to do that!"

"You need to get out of here." Percy said, spitting out some blood. "I'm done. I can't fight. I've given them all I can give."

The Vox had now nearly made it to the two. The old demigod look at his companion desperately. "I'm sorry I couldn't... I couldn't..."

Percy nearly fell over, but he gripped the control panel for support. Elizabeth only looked back at him with slight empathy.

The demigod finally lost his ability to stand and fell to the floor. He felt his life fading. "You're wounded..." The young woman realized.

"Don't worry about it. Think... try..."

_"How to break the circle..."_

Old Elizabeth's last request bounced around his brain. "Cage is the key..." He muttered.

His daughter's eyes lit up. She picked up a discarded lead pipe, and she turned to the singing statue.

"What are you doing?" The man asked his daughter, bewildered.

A whistle fell out of the statue's head after a few good whacks. "C-A-G-E! It's not a word, Percy! It's a SONG!"

Elizabeth put the whistle to her lips and played a short, chilling tune. C-A-G-E. A loud, dolphin-like screech was heard. The giant mechanical warden landed in front of the window, giving Elizabeth a curious glance. She patted his nose. "Thank you! Destroy the Siphon!"

"What?" Percy asked, as the bird took off. "I don't understand... why the Siphon? The Vox..."

And then Songbird crashed into the ruins of Monument Island.

The following crash was absolutely deafening. A bright light flashed, and Percy was blinded for a few seconds. He saw his vision come back just in time to see Elizabeth drop the whistle, which fell through a crack in the floor.

The Vox soldiers stood in wonder for a moment, before realizing that the bird wasn't coming back. They continued to swarm the control room - another minute or so, and the father and daughter would be overrun.

Elizabeth muttered, "Go away."

A giant Tear ensnared every single of the Vox Populi - ships, weapons, and all. They all... dissapeared. Elizabeth collapsed onto the floor. "How...?" Percy asked.

The girl coughed up blood. "That Tear... was too big. I... I can't..."

And then Songbird landed again - except this time, the beast's eye was glowing red. It glared down at Percy, and pinned him to the floor with its talon. The thing was no longer under their control. It was free to do what it did best - hunt down the False Shepard with cruel efficiency.

The father looked at Elizabeth desperately. He blinked away tears. "Elizabeth... Anna... we all make choices... but in the end... our choices make us. I don't expect you to ever forgive me... but I'm not getting out of this one, kid."

And the beast swept him off the side of the ship, roughly. As Percy fell towards Earth, he could hear his daughter above him cry out in pain.

And... at the last possible moment...

A Tear.

* * *

"Ugh... damn Robert... that bleeding heart..."

Percy was suddenly somewhere else. And... not dying.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered.

He realized that he was lying, flat on his back. Rosalind Lutece stood over him, coldly. "Get up." She offered him a hand.

Percy struggled to his feet, to find that they were in a grassland somewhere. "What happened?" He asked groggily.

"My brother is ever so convinced that you're something special. 'The one that can break the circle', he insisted." Rosalind crossed her arms. "When I look at you, Percy Jackson, all I see is a drunkard with a growing morphine addiction."

Percy shook his head. He didn't accept that. "Where is Elizabeth?"

"My brother took her... whilst I am stuck with you." Rosalind threw her arms out broadly. "Welcome to Wales. It's lovely this time of year."

"How did I get here?"

The Lutece sister frowned, shaking her head. "My brother, for all of his genius, is too much of an optimist. It was not my idea to start throwing versions of you at Comstock's realities. It was his. After we died, I was content to muck about for all eternity. He was not."

"He felt sorry about Elizabeth." Percy remembered.

"And you. He especially regretted you. Once I nursed him back to health... all he could talk about was how much you loved her, and how he stole her from you. I had to shut him up whenever Comstock popped 'round to see his progress."

"How can you two be so... different, if you're the same person?"

"Constants and variables, Percy. I believe soon... you will understand."

"I..." Percy ran a hand through his hair. "This is semantics. Why am I here?"

Rosalind sighed. "My brother believes that you are finally the right version of Percy Jackson to end this... unbroken circle that our actions have created."

"Unbroken circle?"

"We've continuously brought versions of you over to versions of Comstock's reality - you're Experiment #123. Robert's thought highly of many of your predecessors, but you... he is sure about."

Percy let that thought sink in. "What's special about me?"

"I do not know. I, myself, see nothing different in you. But I suppose we will see, once my brother shows up. He insisted on pulling you through just before you failed again."

A small fire lit inside of Percy's heart. "So I was always doomed to fail. It's just how good of a show I put on that determines if -"

Robert popped into existence. "Sorry I'm late, dear sister, but Elizabeth was very confused in regards to her task. She understands now... she's waiting for our signal."

"What's going on?" Percy demanded. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. She has a role to play in the circle being opened, that is all."

Percy still really had no idea what was going on. But... he knew better than to question it. "What exactly am I doing here?"

Rosalind smirked at her brother. "Go ahead."

Robert cleared his throat. "We have foreseen two ways to finally stop the circle of Infinite Percys selling Infinite Annas to Infinite Comstocks."

"Uh... what?"

"Two ways to erase Comstock from existence."

Percy's head throbbed, but he nodded. "Go ahead."

A Tear appeared between the twins and Percy - it displayed Annabeth's laboratory. But it was devoid of the Tear Machine. "Option #1, Mr. Jackson." Rosalind offered.

"What?"

"In this scenario, we aim to turn a constant into a variable... and then immediately turn it into the opposite constant."

Percy stared the speaker dimly.

Rosalind rolled her eyes as Robert continued. "Here... you can stop Annabeth from ever getting into quantum physics by destroying several simple files in this room."

The former Pinkerton nodded. "I think I get it. I... could stop us from ever going back to 1892! And if that happens -"

"Comstock would have never... encountered you." The woman chose her words carefully... she knew something that Percy didn't. "And... your beloved would still be alive. You could have the life you always dreamed of having - you and Annabeth, getting old together."

"That sounds... amazing." Percy admitted, squinting at the Tear. Stopping this whole mess before it started?... but a tingle of fear went up his spine. "Wait. If I do this... then what about Anna?"

Robert smiled broadly. "I told you, dear sister. If you do this, Percy Jackson... yes, Elizabeth, or Anna, whichever you prefer, would be... deleted. If you were to have a child... she simply couldn't be _her_. That baby is the result of her time period... and the death of her mother."

Percy felt his stomach sink. "And what's Option #2?"

The Tear changed, showing the inside of the small church in Mulberry Bend. "The only other option would be to smother Father Comstock in the crib."

"Kill a baby?"

"If you were to choose this..." Rosalind chose her words carefully. "You would go back to the prime version of this universe - the first one. You would kill Comstock before he could do any damage - right after his birth."

Percy thought this over carefully. "So... what happens to me after I choose that one?"

The Luteces exchanged a glance. "We're... unsure."

"It's a toss up, really."

Wow.

_We all make choices. But in the end... our choices make us..._

Have another chance with Annabeth in modern times... but lose Elizabeth? Or give up on ever seeing Annabeth again for the slight chance he might redeem himself... somehow...

It wasn't a difficult choice to make. At all. He did what Annabeth would have wanted him to choose.

"Option #2."

* * *

Percy was deep underwater.

Elizabeth was standing next to him, up against a glass window. "You've come." She deadpanned.

"What do you mean...?"

Songbird swam up to the window, its eye red. It was clearly still in rage mode - it tried to bash its way through the see-through material, but it was making no progress. The young woman held out her hand, touching the window. "Shh... it's okay..." She cooed.

Elizabeth's warden suddenly grabbed its chest and shook violently, screeching. "It's all right... I'm here." The woman said, barely above a whisper. This was hard for her, clearly.

The creature's eyes burst open, likely from the water pressure. But the now green light showed out of eye sockets like flashlights. The creature brought a claw up to the glass, as if he could touch Elizabeth's hand. "Just let go." The girl pleaded.

Songbird began to drift away, losing its vital signs. "There you go." Elizabeth managed to choke out. "There you go..."

Percy closed the distance to the girl, wrapping her in an embrace. "I'm sorry, kid." He meant it about the death of Songbird... but then everything slid out again. "I thought... I wasn't in the right frame of mind, I-"

Elizabeth broke off the hug and looked up at him coldly. "I get it. You feel regret. That's good."

"This is more than just simple _regret! _Please, Anna. Give me another chance."

"My name isn't Anna. It's Elizabeth. You made sure of that, didn't you?"

The father felt sick.

"Anyway, come on. The Luteces think that I can fix this... now I just need to figure it out..." The young woman pushed passed Percy, roughly. "This way."

Percy examined a sign above the door - 'Rapture Metro'. "What exactly is this place, kid?"

"Don't call me that."

_"Elizabeth... _what is this place?"

"A doorway."

He was in an underwater building - ocean floor, a couple hundred miles west of Reykjavik, Iceland. The general decor and atmosphere made the place feel... very 1950s. "This is a city, isn't it? Like Columbia. But it's underwater."

"Not exactly." Elizabeth said stiffly. She headed down a set of stairs. "Follow me."

"I don't under-"

She turned on him, hatred burning in her eyes. "I can see... everything, Mr. Jackson. You'll figure it out soon enough."

Percy managed to say, "Please don't call me that..."

But his daughter continued on.

She led him under a broken door and over a piece of fallen cargo. This city - Rapture, he guessed it was called - was already mostly destroyed. A city, underwater... how had Poseidon allowed this to happen?

"Here it is!" Elizabeth pointed to a sphere in the corner. It looked a bit like a mini-submarine. "Yes, it's this way."

Percy looked around him in wonder. Could this city... be real? "What... why-"

"The city was built by the hands of a demigod, and like Columbia, it fell because of hatred and fear. Now let's go."

"Please! Answer my -"

Elizabeth grabbed Percy's arm and dragged him towards the sphere. "I'll have to show you."

She pulled the lever, and the thing traveled through a tunnel and outwards into the ocean. Percy's eyes lit up and he was glued to the window. "Gods..."

The city looked like any modern city... just in the sea. Tunnels connected skyscrapers. As Percy examined all of this... he was both amazed and horrified. This place... it wasn't _natural. _"How could they build a city at the bottom of an ocean?" He murmured aloud.

"How could they build a city in the sky?" Elizabeth leveled.

A fair point.

After a few seconds of awkward silent travel, the sphere emerged into fresh air. In front of them... was a lighthouse. But not the lighthouse into Columbia.

Elizabeth now looked out the window. "Thousands of doors, opening all at once... my god, they're beautiful..."

"What... the stars?"

The sphere docked at the lighthouse, and the door opened slowly. "This way." She said darkly. "I understand it now... I think..."

She led Percy to the ornate door of the lighthouse. At least Rapture knew how to design one in style, it seemed. Elizabeth approached the door and knelt down next to it. It seemed like she was trying to open it... but she didn't have a lockpick out...

"What are you doing?" Percy asked cautiously.

Elizabeth turned to him and kicked the air in frustration. "Dammit... I thought that once I was here, I could fully control it, I thought-"

She stared at something in her hand.

"What..." Percy began, uncertain of what exactly to ask.

"It's a key." Elizabeth said simply.

"How did you... where did it-"

"It's always been there..." His daughter looked at her hand again and shrugged. "I just couldn't see it."

She turned to use the key on the door, while Percy only stared at her slack-jawed. The door opened, and she allowed Percy to enter in first.

The next area was even more jaw-drop worthy.

A Sea of Doors... as far as the horizon went. Percy entered the area in awe. In all directions, identical lighthouses stretched - all separated by thin distances of water. The lights at the top of each... "See? They aren't stars, Mr. Jackson. They're doors."

Percy opened his mouth and closed it several times. "To where?" He eventually mumbled out.

"To everywhere."

He followed Elizabeth down to the lighthouse dock... and a path rose at their feet. "It's a million million worlds. All different... and all similar. Constants and variables."

Percy looked around him. Was he?... Was this the multiverse? "What?!"

"There's always a lighthouse. There's always a man. There's always a city. There's always a Big Daddy. There's always a Little Sister." Elizabeth said, continuing forward.

Percy tried to make sense of it. "Constants... and variables... across all universes..."

"Yes."

"How do you know all of this?"

Elizabeth turned to him, her eyes somewhat softened. "I can see it through the doors. You, me, Columbia, Comstock, Annabeth, Songbird... and in each one-"

"Something is different," Percy interrupted, "And yet the same."

She only nodded.

They arrived at another door, and Elizabeth pushed it open.

The father and daughter emerged into a sun-soaked... something. The same Sea of Doors... but different. The lighthouses were identical to the ones he used to get into Columbia. Instead of ornate stone bridges, it was wooden piers connecting the doors. And to his rightt...

"It's... us..." Percy said, baffled.

An identical version of Elizabeth was leading an identical version of Percy down a pier. A few differences were noted - the other Percy had different weaponry, and he didn't have a bandaged hand. The two alternate-reality doppelgangers made eye contact and experimentally waved at one another.

"It's not exactly us." Elizabeth seemed to have lost some of her earlier coldness. Either that, or she was just as confused as him. But he hoped not.

"I don't understand..." Percy was tired of saying that.

"You don't _need _to understand. It'll happen all the same."

"Why?"

"Because it does; because it has; because it will."

Percy treaded onto the wooden pier that was forming beneath his feet. He scanned the area... millions... no, INFINITE lighthouses. "Where do we go?" He asked lightly.

"They all lead us to the same place... where it started..."

"No, I..." Percy looked at his double again. "I thought... I thought I was the only one to make it this far. I thought-"

"You ARE the only one to make it this far." Elizabeth said, a bit impatiently. "This is what your brain is creating to help you... understand the Sea of Doors."

Percy laughed nervously. "Really? That's funny. Because I still really don't understand anything."

Elizabeth didn't respond and led him to another door. As Percy approached it, she said quietly, "Mr. Jackson... this is your last chance to change your mind."

He figured she was talking about his decision. He only nodded. "The way I see it... this is the only way to undo what I've done to you."

He opened the door.

* * *

Percy was suddenly standing next to a priest. Wait...

"Are you ready to have your past erased? Are you ready to have your sins cleansed? Are you ready to be born again?" The preacher asked.

Elizabeth approached him, walking up the aisle of the chapel. Everything else in the place was empty...

"Do you remember this place?" She asked simply.

Percy looked around. "This is the church in Mulberry Bend. I came here... back in 1892... before Annabeth was pregnant... I was looking for..."

"Baptism." Elizabeth finished.

"Yes..." Percy said, looking at the priest. He was chanting something, but he managed to tone him out. "Why am I here again?"

"This isn't the same place."

Percy looked around. "Yes it is... it looks exactly the same..."

"Constants and variables." Elizabeth approached him, now only a few feet away. "You chose to reject this. But in other worlds.. you didn't. You took the baptism. And you were born again as a different man."

...Oh...

_"You might even call us different sides of the same coin."_

No... he.. he couldn't be...

_"Smother him in the crib."_

The birth of Comstock...

_"In the end, our choices make us."_

Percy understood his role. He wasn't exactly... _himself, _anymore.

Elizabeth took his shoulders slowly.

The young woman turned him around. The baptism bowl was right there. Percy... was Comstock. And Comstock needed to die.

The only way the circle could be broken.

The only way Percy could prove to Elizabeth... _Anna..._ that he loved her.

The only way to show Annabeth that he wasn't a failure.

He realized something - he was about to have his past erased. His sins cleansed. If all went well... he was to be born again.

Comstock had a few decent ideas, Percy supposed.

And Elizabeth took the back of her father's head and thrust it into the bowl.

And Percy Jackson held his breath.


	22. Epilogue: God Only Knows

**This epilogue is my Magnum Opus. Enjoy.**

* * *

Percy Jackson woke up, coughing. His face was pressed against a cool, wooden desk.

He... was he in the Underworld?

No. Not unless he'd gone to some version of the Underworld that looked strikingly like his apartment on Bowery Street.

He rose to his feet in excitement. How was this possible? Elizabeth had drowned him to kill of all the versions of Comstock. He was dead. He died so that all the other versions of himself and his daughter could live their lives. His Elizabeth knew the terms. He knew the terms. They were willing to sacrifice this.

But... somehow, he was alive.

Percy glanced down at the his calendar on the desk, and his heart skipped a beat. "October 8th, 1893". He looked at his arms - no bandage made from Elizabeth's dress. No scar on his left forearm. No wooden bracelet on his right wrist.

All ten fingers.

He dashed to the basin of water in the corner and looked down at himself. He wasn't thirty-eight anymore... he was a kid again. Nineteen.

And the next thing that crossed his mind was the soft music coming from the nursery. He remembered a striking fact - he'd sold Anna to Comstock on October 7th. He would have to figure out how this possible later. But for now...

"Anna?"

He moved quickly to the door and pushed it open. "Anna, is that you?"

The crib was pushed up against the wall - and Percy couldn't force himself to go and check, for fear of being dissapointed. His heart pounded. When he finally peered into the crib, he saw a beautiful blue-eyed baby looking up at him.

"Oh my god... oh my god..."

He felt tears moving down as he gently picked up his daughter, as she were fragile and might break. The baby looked back at him, extending a hand to touch his face. She didn't weep, she didn't gurgle, she didn't blink.

Percy counted her fingers. _Ten._

He hugged the bundle fiercely. "Thank you, Lutece... I swear to you, Eliz... err, Anna, I mean... I swear to you I'll get it right this time."

Anna Jackson babbled back in response.

"You're going to be such a beautiful little girl. You're gonna have a real childhood." Percy felt kind of ridiculous - he was making promises to a baby girl. "Don't you worry. I'm not going to give you up for _anything."_

And just then, someone knocked at his door. "Just a minute!" Percy called out. He looked down at his beautiful baby, and decided that he couldn't bear to part with her at the moment. He kissed Anna's forehead. "Hopefully a job for your dad, eh?"

He strode into the main room, cradling his daughter carefully. He opened the door, and took a step back in surprise.

Robert and Rosalind Lutece were standing on the other side of the door. "Lutece?... what are you?..."

"We're here to... hmm..."

"Provide an explanation."

"We postulated you would be curious."

Percy merely looked at them. Anna squirmed in his arms, so he held her closer. "So you're going to tell me how all of this is possible?" He asked.

The two simultaneously nodded. The son of Poseidon sighed before allowing the trans-dimensional duo into his apartment. He realized then that the two of them were like he and Comstock... the same person, different variables...

Thinking about that, Percy felt sick.

"Shall you begin, brother? Or shall I?"

"I should think you are more acquainted with the knowledge."

Robert Lutece shrugged. "I suppose. Let's have a seat, Percy." Several wooden chairs suddenly appeared in his apartment. "There. That's better."

"Showoff," Percy muttered as he stroked Anna's hair. She'd fallen asleep. He looked at the invasion party that had entered his apartment and sighed. "Okay. Start explaining."

"Perhaps you were wondering how you're now nineteen and very much alive, when you last remember being thirty-eight and most certainly dead." Robert offered.

Percy nodded. "Go on."

Rosalind looked at her brother. "Word this carefully."

"I will." Robert took out a cigarette and prepared to light it.

"Hey, that's not good for the baby." Percy chided. "You mind?"

The male Lutece put his cigarette back in his pocket, looking somewhat impressed with Percy's fatherly inclinations. "To begin... you may remember your grand quest to Columbia, in which you brought about the vigorous restitution of your daughter."

"Yeah?..."

"That was not you."

Percy's head thumped. "What do you mean, it wasn't me? I remember... clear as day... and not the half-memories like the ones I made up on the boat, or after the Lethe water... no, these are real."

"If you truly had done what you remembered," Rosalind said delicately, "How can you possibly be nineteen? How can your beloved Anna be an infant?"

The Pinkerton's head spun. "But the memories... they're so real..."

"How can you have ten fingers instead of eight? How can your brand not be present?"

Percy let his baffled silence answer that question for him.

"We aren't entirely sure of what's happened ourselves." Robert admitted.

"This is the same universe that you would go on to save Anna in."

"If you... well, not _you-"_

Percy sighed. "I get it. Now make your point."

"If you hadn't opened the circle... you _would _have opened the circle."

"That made no sense."

Rosalind cut in. "The version of you that drowned was _you_, twenty years further on in the future, and before you saved Anna. He sacrificed himself so that all versions of Percy and Anna could live happily ever after. It was a good idea in theory, I suppose."

Percy felt his blood go cold. "'In theory'? What do you mean, in theory?"

Robert shook his head. "It's nothing that concerns you. But, to the point... from what we can tell-"

"-You're the only Percy Jackson who remembers Columbia."

"And it's due to your place in this very specific universe."

Percy's head hurt from the influx of information. "And what about Elizabeth? Where did she go?"

Rosalind and Robert exchanged a glance. "That's not relevant to the matter at hand."

"Shall we say... she is angry."

"What does that mean-"

And the two dissapeared.

Percy looked down at his newly reclaimed daughter, who was snoring. "I'm gonna start setting aside money right now. Someday, I'll take you to Paris. I promise."

* * *

Anna's striking blue eyes were the same as Elizabeth's, which Percy had guessed she had somehow inherited from Sally Jackson. Her black hair was like Percy's.

The little girl was vibrant and constantly curious about absolutely everything. As soon as Anna had started to walk, he had to keep an eye on her at all times. Which he didn't mind - he spent as much time with his daughter as possible outside of work. He played with her every single day.

During the day, he entrusted Anna to a woman in his building by the name of Ms. Hobbes. She was an older woman of around fifty, who's husband had died in the Indian Wars back in '76. She had children, all of whom were older than Percy and no longer lived with her. From the first day that Percy had brought Anna home, she'd volunteered to look after her when Percy worked.

Anna seemed to adore the lady, and Percy did too. Her meager apartment always smelled of spaghetti and herbs, and just generally had a warm feeling to it. Given Percy's lack of cooking skill and Ms. Hobbes's abundance of it, the young father and daughter often ate there - with Percy paying for his share, despite the woman's refusal of such a kindness. Altogether, Ms. Hobbes was around as close to another family figure that Percy and Anna had.

And thus, when Anna's second birthday came around - February 2nd, 1895 - the Pinkerton wanted to have a small party with himself, his daughter, and her caretaker. Unfortunately, Ms. Hobbes had come down with a cold just before, and so the father and daughter celebrated by themselves as soon as Percy returned home from work. Under the circumstances, his daughter was being watched by his landlord, Mr. McKelty, and his wife. Anna didn't seem to like them much, so when her father got home they happily went back up to their small apartment.

"Happy Birthday, Anna!" Percy picked up his daughter in a hug while she giggled happily. "You're getting to be so big!"

"Daddy!" The child babbled back as her father set her back down onto the floor. She pointed at a bottle on the table and looked at Percy expectantly.

The son of Poseidon only nodded. One excellent thing about Anna was that she very rarely cried - she only looked at Percy and pointed at what she wanted. Which, giving the adorable doe-eyes she possessed, was remarkably persuasive. Soon, the toddler was drinking milk happily in her high-chair, with Percy standing over her, smiling.

A sharp rap at the door was heard. Anna pointed at it with a chubby finger, taking the bottle out of her mouth. She said something that probably translated in baby-language to "door."

"Be right there!" Percy said loudly, before patting his daughter on the head. "I'll be just a second, kid."

He opened to door and nearly fell over in surprise.

"Hello, Percy Jackson."

"Quite the party we've crashed, I see."

Rosalind and Robert Lutece both stood in front of the door, in their usually proud fashion. The both looked at Percy expectantly. "I _knew _we should have just appeared in the apartment." Rosalind complained.

"Courtesy, dear sister." Robert chided.

"Uh... what are you two doing here?" Percy asked slowly.

Robert clicked his tongue. "Why, we're here for the festivities, of course!"

"Although we'll be unable to attend -"

"Unless Percy allows us into his apartment."

There was a banging on the table behind him - Anna had finished her bottle and was hitting the table with it. "Daddy!" She cried in distress.

Percy rushed to her. "What's wrong?"

She held out the bottle. "It's gone!"

The father laughed at the obvious statement. "Is it gone? I didn't notice!"

Behind the two, Rosalind cleared her throat. "Shall we take this as permission to enter, then?"

"I daresay we shall."

Anna pointed at the two trans-dimensional Brits. "Who they, Daddy?"

"She seems to be progressing rather well for such a young age." Rosalind noted.

"Of course. Annabeth Chase and Athena in your genetic code would help in this regard."

"Anna is lucky to have taken after her mother." The woman joked dryly.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Anna, these are... uh..." he looked at them uncertainly. "She's Auntie Rosalind and he's Uncle Robert."

Rosalind looked at her brother. "Do you suppose if I were to have a child -"

"Would I be uncle? Or perhaps-"

"Mother? If we _are _the same person -"

Robert looked offended. "I would most definitely _not _be the mother, nor the father, nor the -"

Percy threw his hands in the air. "Figure this out later, guys." He turned back to his daughter. "Can you say 'auntie' and 'uncle'?"

"Auntie and unckie!" Anna cried happily.

"I suppose, by definition, we _are _her aunt and uncle." Robert mused.

"Seeing as Annabeth Chase was our half-sibling."

The son of Poseidon was nearly sick. "Does that make us in-laws?"

Robert smirked, and then changed the subject. "Surely you have more planned for your daughter's birthday than this."

"Birfday!" The toddler said happily.

Percy's stomach sunk. Did he really have a plan for anything special? No. Getting a cake catered was expensive - and when you were trying to keep yourself _fed, _it was a bit difficult to splurge. "Honestly? No, Robert. I don't. I was going to play with her until her bedtime."

"I see." Robert said slowly.

"Well... shall we leave them to it?" Rosalind asked.

"You two can stay." Percy offered, picking up Anna from the highchair and plopping her on the ground. "You guys like playing hands-and-knees floor basketball, right?"

* * *

Percy woke up to the sound of a crying girl. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Anna crawled up onto Percy's bed. The demigod forced himself to look at his alarm clock - four thirty in the morning. He was due at the Pinkerton offices in three and half hours. He forced himself into a sleeping position. "Did you have another dream?" He asked.

A rhetorical question. Anna had been having nightmares ever so often for months now. At first, Percy had gone into the nursery to check on her - but by now, it happened often enough that Anna just came to him instead. Every single time, he asked her what the dream was. She would say that she didn't remember.

Anna crawled onto his chest and curled up. Percy felt tears dampen his shirt and he hugged her close. "Did you forget this time?"

After a few seconds, the five year old responded. "I think I remember something..."

Percy straightened himself in his bed. This was new. "Really? Can you tell me what it was?" His daughter cried some more into his chest. "Hey, everything's going to be okay

"I... I saw a girl. She was at the top of a tower. Her only friend was a bird."

Percy's blood froze. "What?"

"I think she was me, Daddy..."

The twenty-four year old kissed his daughter's head. He was... he was absolutely terrified by this. If he could remember Columbia... "What would make you think that?" He asked softly.

Anna simply shrugged. The two sat huddled close to each other for a few minutes, not trading a word. "What if a bad man wants to take me away? And put me in the tower?"

"Don't you think of it." Percy drew the covers over the two of them. He snuggled in close with his daughter. "No one's taking you away from me."

_Not again._

"I love you, kid." He said, mumbling it into her hair.

"Love you too... Daddy..."

* * *

The next day in work was hell.

For one, all Percy could think about was Anna's dream. It definitely freaked him out more than anything since he'd gotten he'd started this... second life, he supposed, as a father. Granted, it wasn't actually his second life... gah, this hurt his head. The important thing was that Anna was getting dreams about Columbia, which wasn't good.

Today wasn't an enforcing day, thank god. Percy normally disliked filing work, but he was content with it on a day like today. He heard around him from his various co-workers' conversations that something was going on with Cuba. Weeks ago, the New York papers were full of stories about the "savage Spanish" and all the injustices down there. Most likely drivel to try and sell more papers.

A coworker of his - Tilden - tapped Percy on the shoulder. "Jackson! You got ears?"

The demigod turned around and frowned. "Yes."

"Reynolds called you into the meeting room three times now! Move your arse!"

Percy rose to his feet and followed his fellow Pinkerton into the rather large meeting room. "Something on your mind, Jackson?" Tilden suddenly asked. "I can't believe you didn't hear the boss."

"A little more than something on my mind."

A hundred or so agents were crammed into the hall, in which Captain Reynolds stood at the front of. He was the boss of Percy's company - a fiery old man who generally wasn't to be trifled with. There was a faint murmur through the crowd that signified that something was up - and Percy saw it. The Feds were with him.

It was technically illegal for the government to hire out the Pinkertons of jobs, but when a private detective agency had more active agents than the standing United States Army, there tended to be some under-the-table stuff.

Percy had a hard time remembering his life after selling Anna and up until Columbia - mostly because he hadn't done those things, _Percy _had. But he was fairly certain that anything with the Feds hadn't happened in that... was "life" the correct term?

"Quiet!" Reynolds commanded, and the room soon fell to silence. "Now, the government is fixin' to make war with the dagos." _The Spanish._ The crowd exploded into discussions, which the captain quickly silenced. "Down in the Caribbean, and over in the Pacific - something about freeing the islanders, I don't rightly know. The point is, the standing army is pathetic, and we're being hired out to bolster the troops."

That caused even more outcries, most of which Percy joined. The Pinkerton higher-ups didn't exactly have the right to - "I've done my best, men! We had a quota to meet. I avoided bringing up the men with wives and children." Reynolds cried.

Percy's heart pounded.

"You'll be paid double for your work. Now, if you'll settle down, I'll read off the names quickly."

The son of Poseidon had trouble controlling his breathing as the Captain rattled off names - sending men to infantry or naval groups on the other side of the world. At last, the man came to a finish. And Percy managed to stop the jackhammer-like pounding of his heart. "Alright, men; off you go -"

"Captain Reynolds, if I may." A government man interrupted. "We've just received word cross-telegram that Washington's recruiting cavalry units for deployment in Cuba. We've gone over your list of agents who have the qualifications for a such a job - men with equine experience, and the like."

Oh, no... WHY DID HE HAVE TO PUT THAT ON HIS RESUME... a dumb idea, shortly after Anna had turned one year old and money was scarce. _Anything to earn a paycheck_, he remembered thinking.

"Only one man seemed experienced enough to join the 1st United States Volunteer Cavalry - Perseus Jackson."

* * *

Percy survived with a few scrapes. But that wasn't the hard part. Leaving Anna was harder.

His unit was full of Okies, cowboys, and Native Americans - the "Rough Riders" were their nickname. He was the only city boy in the entire regiment. He was also given a decent position in the cavalry ranking, above the rest of the irregulars, which caused more insults to fly his way. _But, _he did have a few decent memories. Like charging up San Juan Hill next to Teddy Roosevelt. But that's a story for another day.

He left his apartment - and his daughter - in the care of the landlord, Mr. McKelty. For nearly five months. He'd landed back in Montauk on the fourteenth of August, 1898, with the rest of regiment, who had almost been decimated by the Spanish artillery, yellow fever, and malaria. Somehow, Percy seemed to have dodged each of these attacks, and returned home with a few stories about how he'd shared a beer with the man who would go on to be carved into Mount Rushmore.

Most of all, he arrived back in New York with two things on his mind - seeing Anna, and quitting the Pinkertons as soon as possible.

He obviously wasn't in the financial position to quit his job, even with the advancing payment he'd received from serving with the Rough Riders. He would have to keep his job. For now.

These thoughts were going through his head as he opened the door to his apartment building, and he saw his little girl playing with a toy in the lobby, her back turned to him. He cleared his throat. "Hey, kid."

Anna rushed to him with a smile. "Daddy!" Percy picked her up and spun her in a circle before hugging her.

"How's it been?" Percy managed to ask. He was choking up.

Anna squeezed him tight. "Okay. Uncle Robert and Auntie Rosalind came and saw me every week!"

Percy made a mental note to thank the Luteces for that whenever they showed up next. They liked to pop in every so often.

"That's good to hear." He said quietly.

"I missed you. Don't go away like that ever again, please."

The demigod smiled at her weakly and said, "I missed you too, sweetheart. And don't worry - I'm not going away again."

* * *

Three weeks later, Percy felt as though he'd betrayed that notion.

It was time for Anna Jackson to start going to school. She'd gotten old too goddamn fast for Percy's liking. He was terrified of leaving her in the care of someone other than himself, Ms. Hobbes, or Mr. McKelty for any length of time. Including one day.

And when he'd helped his daughter get dressed, his heart began to melt. His little girl was wearing a blue and white dress, and her black hair was back in a short ponytail, set by the young father (a nice skill he'd picked up from Ms. Hobbes). Her huge blue eyes looked up at him expectantly, and he'd nearly gone weak at the knees from how much she reminded him of Elizabeth.

"Daddy, we're going to be late!" She informed him.

Percy laughed nervously. "I know, Anna. Let's get going."

He walked the girl through the streets of New York, keeping an iron grip on her hand. The five-year-old didn't seem nervous at all - she was _excited. _Percy finally understood why his own mom had been so protective of him - he was terrified that something might happen to her.

Oh god. Percy was turning into an overprotective mother.

When they neared the elementary school - it was just down the block, and on the way to the Pinkerton offices. Percy walked into the building, keeping Anna behind him in an eerily similar way that he'd protected Elizabeth in gunfights. No, HE didn't do that; he just REMEMBERED-

More important things at hand.

"Hello, sir." The schoolteacher - a rather pretty young woman - greeted him. She was probably younger than Percy, with brown eyes and hair. She had a slight Irish accent. "Your child is here for kindergarten, right?"

Percy smiled sheepishly. "Of course." Anna walked in front of him, Percy keeping her hand. "This is Anna Jackson."

The teacher knelt down to Anna's level. "Hello, Anna. That's a beautiful name."

The five year old giggled. "Your hair is pretty."

Oh god. Percy saw it right then and there - this poor teacher was already taken in by Anna's adorableness. It was hard not to. The young woman smiled. "That's very nice of you, Anna. I'm Miss Coghlan, and I'm going to be your teacher."

Anna only nodded.

"The other children are already inside the classroom." Miss Coghlan said politely, as if she wanted to get things going. She looked at Percy expectantly.

Percy picked up his daughter and kissed her on the nose. "I'll be here _the second _you're done to walk you home. Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Daddy."

The demigod finally let go of his daughter, who ran excitedly to go and join the other children. Miss Coghlan smiled at the Pinkerton. "You've managed to raise a cute kid, mister."

Percy nodded. And then he coughed, weakly remembered his manners and stuck out his hand. "Uh, Mr. Percy Jackson at your service."

"Iona Coghlan. _Miss _Iona Coghlan." The teacher said, smiling as she took his hand and shook it.

The Pinkerton sighed. "Please take good care of my daughter. She doesn't have a mother, and-"

"I understand, Mr. Jackson, but my job is to watch over all of the children, not just-"

"I know. But... I worry." Percy shook his head. What was he thinking? Everything would be fine. "You know where I work, right? In case you -"

Miss Coghlan nodded. "Yes. Now, you should be on your way to your job. And I'll go to mine."

Percy only nodded and proceeded to his office, where he checked in to find out he was on file duty until eleven, and then he had a small enforcement job with a few other grunts. He trudged along through the boring paperwork, before arming up at eleven.

He was about to board the train to the factory with his coworkers when Darcy ran up to him out of breath. "Percy... there's been a fire."

"What are you -"

"The schoolhouse caught fire."

Percy stared at him. "Did I hear you wrong?"

"No."

Dread filled the demigod, and he looked at his coworkers. "I'm gone. This is my daughter we're talking about."

"Reynolds will have your hide-" One of the agents started.

"Nonsense." Darcy assured him. The young man pointed at the demigod's holster. "Percy, give me your roscoe. I'll cover for you. Now run!"

Five minutes run to the schoolhouse. Percy could see the smoke from a distance. He was mentally kicking himself. He'd _always _trusted his instincts on things - and now he was paying the price. If Anna... if she'd...

Percy arrived on scene to find it surrounding by a small fire crew. A crowd of crying parents were standing outside, merely looking on. Percy dashed onto the scene, nearly knocking over a fireman. "What's happened?"

The man shrugged. "Hell if we know. Probably arson, but it's hard to say. Everyone that's in there has to be dead already, sir."

No. _No._

Percy didn't accept that."

The demigod approached the door to the schoolhouse and kicked it open. Smoldering wood fell onto him, giving him light burns on his arms. He yelped a bit in pain. His Poseidon blood gave him a small resistance to fire... "What the hell are you doing, sir? This is out of control. We've already used all our buckets. And the rest of these parents don't want to see their children's bodies."

Percy shook his head. _No. _He entered the building, walking through a wall of fire. He did his best to pat out the flames before he was a burnt corpse himself. He tried summoning water... he soon put all the interior fires out.

Percy squinted through the smoke, and began to search. He pawed through piles of rubble until his fingers bled. He began to smell burning flesh... and he hoped to god it didn't belong to his daughter.

He came across one last pile of rubble and pawed through it desperately. He could feel his breath shortening, and the burns were beginning to sap at his strength. He finally dislodged a rock, and a pair of blue eyes looked up at him.

"ANNA!"

"I _told you _my Daddy would save us!"

Percy felt a tear go down his face as he continued to dig at the burnt wood. He finally was able to pick up his daughter, and hugged her close. "Oh thank god... oh thank god..."

"Daddy! There's more people with me!"

A small group of students had managed to hide with his daughter - seven children in all. Somehow, they'd survived the flames. He pulled all of them out one by one, giving each kindergartner a few encouraging words. At last, he aided Miss Coghlan out of the small area.

"Mr. Jackson?... I don't understand..."

"Don't think about it."

Percy then turned to see that the firemen on the outside of the building, staring inside in awe. "Enough burns to kill a man..." One of the firemen said in amazement. "And the fire... it's gone..."

"Yeah, great observation. You mind clearing us a way out of here?"

Each of the children and Miss Coghlan all seemed to be okay. This wasn't the whole class... and that chilled Percy. Because the firemen had already assumed that the people inside were dead, they'd doomed a handful of five-year-olds to to their graves.

All the students gave Percy grateful hugs as the fireman began to hack away at the debris outside. Miss Coghlan only stared at the demigod. Her eyes seemed out of focus. "I... I heard the children... they were screaming..."

Percy glanced over at the young schoolteacher. "There was nothing you could do, miss."

As the adrenaline began to wear off, Percy could feel the burns all over his body. His close had seared through all over. Not life-threatening, but ugly scars most likely. He could live with that. Anna jumped into her father's wounded arms, and despite the pain, he held her close.

The firemen broke into the schoolhouse and the children ran out to their parents. Percy continued to hug his daughter, feeling tears come down his face. "Daddy's here... he's gotcha..."

"When we were hiding, she was the only one not crying." Miss Coghlan - who still stood next to the father and daughter - said. "She kept telling us over and over again that 'My Daddy is coming to get me, he promised'."

Percy kissed Anna's forehead. "I try, miss."

The demigod was then taken to a hospital by the firemen, where his burns were examining by the local doctors. Anna sat on a chair nearby, looking at her father intently the whole time. As the last of the burns were finally wrapped, Percy sat up. "How're you doing, Anna?" He asked, once the two were finally alone.

"I'm fine, Daddy. Are you hurt?"

Percy waved off her concern. "I'll be okay."

Anna nodded, satisfied with his answer. "Miss Coghlan said that what you did was very brave."

The son of Poseidon smiled. "That so?"

"Yes." Anna giggled. "She's really nice, Daddy."

There was a knock on the door to the room. "Perseus Jackson?" asked a male voice.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

Percy shrugged, but then realized that his target was behind a door. "Sure, come on in."

A middle-aged man strode into the room, with an unlit cigar stuck in his mouth. He glanced at Anna. "Is that your child?" He asked.

Fatherly instincts kicked in, and Percy's eyes narrowed a bit. "That depends on who's asking."

The mystery man came up to Percy's hospital bed with an outstretched hand. "'Scuse my manners, my good man. I'm Herbert Grey, the head of the Arson division of the New York Police Department."

Percy shook his head, a bit uncertainly. "You already know who I am."

"That I do." Herbert withdrew his hand and reached for his lighter. One of the more striking differences between the 2010s and the 1890s was the presence of tobacco. Smoking in a hospital would be unheard of where he came from. The old man took a drag from his cigar. "Where do you work, son?"

"I'm with the Pinkerton Detective Agency."

"Hmm..." The head of Arson looked at the window before turning back to the young father. "They paying your medical bills?"

Percy shrugged. "I dunno. For this?... probably not, since it wasn't active duty."

"You happy working for the Pinks?"

No need for a second thought. The demigod shook his head. "No sir. They shipped me off to fight the Spanish in Cuba."

Herbert coughed and shook his head. "Sounds like shady business to me."

"It is."

"What do you make a month, Perseus?"

"Percy." He corrected on reflex, before going a bit red-faced from his outburst. "Sorry. I make around $45 a month, sir."

"No need to apologize." The man said. "Ah, 'scuse my manners. Would you like a cigar?"

"Daddy doesn't smoke, Mister." Anna chimed in from across the room.

"Smarter man than I..." Herbert muttered under his breath before turning to Percy. "To make things a bit more brief, my department is in need of junior Arson detectives. Not firefighters, mind you - that's all volunteer. These are paid professionals."

"And what does an Arson detective do, exactly?"

"Investigates building shells after fires. Looks for clues as to the source of the fire - whether it's intentional or not." Herbert looked down at Percy with a neutral face. "The firemen said you kept your cool - unafraid to get into that building no matter what you found."

Percy shrugged. "I guess so. I was mostly motivated by Anna over there, but the other children and the teacher were on my mind, too."

"Do you want to know what caused the fire?"

The demigod sat up a bit straighter. "Hell yes."

Herbert smiled, knowing that he'd won. He produced a letter from his pocket. "Here's the contract. $55 a month, full medical coverage. You start on Monday."

Percy nearly crapped his pants. Fifty-five dollars a month couldn't buy a video game in 2013, but it was above-average monthly wages in 1898. "Done. I'll turn in my resignation to the Pinkertons tomorrow."

* * *

A _gifted child. _That was what the letter said.

Anna Jackson was definitely lucky that she took after her mother.

The eight-year-old girl was taking all-boy classes, with fifth grade level math and writing. Percy had promised her a party in celebration, and due to an arrangement with a certain pair of inter-dimensional redheads he'd be able to keep that promise.

It was around six o'clock in the evening, and Percy was looking over some reports by his desk. His new job with the NYPD was a lot more work, but the extra pay and the fact that he hadn't shot a gun in two years was more than good enough for him.

Anna was singing under her breath and drawing on a pad of paper on the floor next to her father. Since his raise, he'd been able to afford more things - like toys and other such things for his daughter. He wondered briefly if he was spoiling her, then rationalized that he owed it to her. It was then when there was a knocking on the door.

"I'll get it." Anna said, rushing to the door and opening it, before smiling. "Auntie Rosalind! Uncle Robert!"

Robert gathered her in an excited hug, while Rosalind was a bit more reserved in her embrace with Anna. Percy had picked up that there was some tension between the normally in-sync "twins" as of late. He'd have to ask Robert at a later time. "Hey, guys. Glad you made it." Percy said, gratefully.

He couldn't believe that he'd actually grown to see the Luteces as... _friends. _The two had showed up frequently throughout the years, often to aid Percy in some sort of way. For a pair of incredibly esoteric and confusing Brits, they were rather entertaining. "It's not every day your daughter is honored for academics, Percy." Robert said.

"She's a smart cookie." Percy said fondly, looking at his beaming daughter. "We have a surprise for you, kid."

Anna smiled even wider. "A surprise?"

"Yes. Turn around, child." Robert asked kindly.

The younger Jackson covered her eyes, turned around, and giggled. The Lutece twins looked at each other and nodded, and then a cake shimmered into existence on the dining room table. And not a small one either - two layers, and enough for a large party. And it was covered in blue frosting. The nostalgia nearly made Percy weak at the knees. "You can turn around, Anna."

The girl did so and squealed in excitement when she saw the cake. "You shouldn't have! We can't eat all of this!"

"It's your big day, sweetheart." Percy said, patting her shoulder. "You can have the first piece."

Soon, the four members of their weird trans-dimensional extended family were happily enjoying the chocolate cake around the small dining table. Even with the extra money Percy could throw around, he still lived frugally. The only time Anna ever got cake was on her birthdays. This was a rare treat.

A knock was heard on the door. Percy glanced at it, unsure of who could have been there. "I'll get it." He muttered, setting down his fork. He opened to door to find short woman with brown hair standing there, looking cold.

"Miss Coghlan! How are you?" He asked.

"I'm fine, Mr. Jackson." She said back curtly. Percy hadn't seen her in a few months, but she still seemed to be doing well. She was fine company, and Anna simply adored the woman, even though she wasn't her teacher anymore.

He looked at her with uncertainty. He was never sure how to greet her. Instinct said that a friend who he'd known for a few years now warranted a hug, but manners in 1901 were quite strange. They ended up shaking hands.

"I've come by to congratulate Anna on making advanced classes."

"Come on in. We're eating cake now."

As the woman entered through the door, Anna saw her visitor. "Miss Coghlan! Miss Coghlan!" She ran to hug the woman.

Unfortunately, poor Iona had been taken by the young girl almost instantly from that first day and the fire. Shortly after the school had been repaired, one assignment was to draw your family. Anna had drawn six figures - "Me, Daddy, Auntie Rosalind, Uncle Robert, Ms. Hobbes and Miss Coghlan." That had done it.

Thinking about Ms. Hobbes hurt Percy's heart. The old woman had died last year of some sickness or other. Anna had been crushed, as had Percy. That woman was like a mother to the demigod, back when he was nineteen and barely able to afford food.

That was _eight _years ago. Time flies.

"It's good to see you, darling! I'm so proud of you!" Miss Coghlan said back happily.

They broke the hug, and the young teacher noticed the Brits. "Hello, sir and madame." She said, uncertainly.

Percy balked, unsure of how to introduce them. "They're... family friends."

"Hello to you too, pretty miss." Robert said, ignoring Percy and layering on the accent. "Dr. Robert Lutece at your service."

Percy and Rosalind both rolled their eyes and his attempt at being charming.

"And this is my... sister, Rosalind."

"Also a doctor." The female Lutece said, sounding miffed.

They all shook hands, and Miss Coghlan joined the table.

* * *

"Daddy, can we talk?"

Percy looked up from his case files to find the eleven-year-old doe-eyeing him. She only whipped out the gorgeous eyes and "Daddy" bit when she wanted something. "'Course we can, sweetheart. What's up?"

Anna ran a hand through her hair. She'd asked Percy to set it in the exactly same way she wore it back in Columbia when he first rescued Elizabeth. Was preference of hairstyle genetic? Either way, the girl clearly wanted something. "Today was 'Bring-your-pet-to-school Day'."

"Was it?"

"All the other students had caged birds, or cats or dogs." Her lip was quivering.

Percy leaned back a bit. He had to stay strong. He couldn't give in every single time his daughter cried... but seeing Anna cry was about the worst thing in the world - just like it had been for Elizabeth. "Come here, Anna."

He rose to give her a hug. "You know I'm too old for that." She said weakly, before giving in and returning the hug. She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Can we get a puppy, Daddy?"

Percy opened his mouth and shut it, contemplating her request. Mr. McKelty was very liberal on his pet policy. They could definitely afford to keep a small one. "Are you sure? Dogs are a lot of work. If we were to get one, I wouldn't be able to buy you a new dress for your birthday this year."

"I want a puppy." She insisted stubbornly.

_Well, I want a puppy, but that doesn't mean I'm going to get one!_

Percy couldn't say no to her. They went down and picked out a beagle the next day. Anna named it Daisy.

* * *

Being a single father was heard enough. Being the single father of a thirteen-year-old girl going through puberty was even worse.

Percy was at a complete blank in regards to all those female hormones that were raging inside of Anna. He was literally clueless about some female things. Mostly because about 99% of what Annabeth had told him all those years ago went in one ear and out the other.

So that was why he'd walked a few buildings to Miss Iona Coghlan's apartment, and why he was standing outside of her door at one in the morning. He'd been friends with Iona for years now - she'd come and help him, he was sure of it.

The woman was now twenty-nine to Percy's thirty-two, but she was still unmarried and likely to stay unmarried. Very few men were available at her age, and as she was considering past child-bearing age, she'd be luck to find a man willing to marry even if there was an eligible bachelor. Still, she worked her elementary teaching job and made enough money to afford her own place.

Percy often considered asking Iona to move in with him and Anna - there was enough room, and the combined income would help everyone involved - but the Irishwoman was headstrong and independent. So he hadn't bothered asking.

And now, knocking at her door when she was clearly asleep made him feel like an ass.

After not receiving an answer, he knocked again, and louder. Finally, an angry voice came back with an incomprehensible demand. The door flew open, and there she was, standing in her nightgown. Her anger turned to annoyance at Percy's sighting. "What are you doing at my-"

"Come on. I'll explain on the way."

Iona slipped on her shoes and grabbed her keys before groggily joining Percy. "What in God's name is this for, Percy?"

He started briskly walking towards the exit. "It's Anna."

That got the woman awake. Percy took her forearm and dragged her along the street. "What's the matter?" Iona asked, sounding worried.

"She's got blood coming out of her... you know. I think it's her menarche."

"Oh." The woman shook her arm free of Percy's grasp and matched his pace. "That still doesn't explain why you woke me from my sleep."

Percy gave her an incredulous look. "I have no idea about this stuff. You're a woman, so-"

"Grand observation."

He rolled his eyes. "Soon, she's going to need tampons and stuff and I have literally no idea what to tell her."

Iona shook her head and laughed and Percy fumbled with the keys to his apartment. "So you woke me up in the middle o' the night because you're too dense to teach your daughter female anatomy?"

As the door clicked open, Percy nodded in confirmation. "If it's any compliment, you look pretty good for someone who was shaken out of bed at this ungodly hour."

"You're lucky your daughter is so adorable." Iona muttered back jokingly. "'Else I'd go right back to that bed. Where is she?"

"Bathroom - first door on the left. If you need me, I'll be in my room, trying to pretend this is all a dream."

"By god, you're hopeless."

"I know. And Iona?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. I owe you one."

The woman only shook her head again. "Perhaps we can call things even then."

"Even?"

"For when you saved my life all those years ago in that fire."

"Think nothing of it. Now go tell Anna some... stuff."

* * *

Dating came next, of course.

Anna, now sixteen, kept checking her reflection in the mirror and pacing. Daisy the beagle walked around her feet, looking distressed. Percy looked on at his daughter with a scowl that masked abject terror.

"I look good, right Dad?" She asked again.

Percy rolled his eyes. Anna was stunning - and that worried the detective. Her white blouse and blue skirt reminded him far too much of what she had worn back in Columbia when they first met. Her hair was in the same low ponytail. He couldn't blame a boy for asking her out. She was beautiful.

That didn't make him feel any better.

"Yeah, you look good." Percy answered passively. Iona had done most of the work, due to Percy's ineptness towards makeup and dress, though he could set a _mean_ ponytail. He took a pocket-watch out of his jacket and looked at it - the Ancient Greek word _Anaklusmos, _meaning Riptide.

He'd wondered for years if he could ever give the sword to his daughter. Miraculously, she showed no signs of controlling water, and she'd had no encounters with monsters. How that happened stumped him, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He held it to her, unsure if this would work. "Hold onto this. It's... call it a good luck charm."

Or defense if her date was a monster.

Anna accepted the watch, squinting down at the letters. "What language is this? Greek?"

"Sure."

Her finger moved to the unlatch button.

"No! Don't." Percy cried, bursting out of his chair. If Anna never learned about her godly ancestry, that would be great. Less headaches and danger that way.

Anna gave him a curious look. "Why not?"

"Only open it if you're in serious danger." _Like if your date is turns of to be a _Ventus_ or something. _"If you aren't in danger, _don't go near the latch."_

"Dad, why would you-"

Percy held out his arms. "Put yourself in my shoes. My baby girl is going out on her first date. Do your dad a favor. It'll make me feel better."

Anna nodded slowly, slipping the sword/watch into her pocket. "He'll be here soon."

The boy seemed... okay, from what Percy had seen of him. Well, he'd never met him; but working for a police department for over ten years - especially now that he was a Homicide detective after a recent promotion - gave you access to files. He'd done a full background check on this kid. And his family. He was nineteen - three years older than Anna. He went to university. Everything about him seemed respectable.

Percy glanced at the clock. Six oh six. "He's late."

"Oh, come on, Dad. He said he'd be here at six oh five."

"A minute can make a big difference."

"In what?"

Percy opened his mouth and shut it. "Uh... disarming a bomb?"

Anna only shook her head and laughed. "I don't think-"

A hand knocked on the door three times - three hard, over-compensating knocks. Not the Lutece knock, which usually had a rhythm. Iona's knock was two soft taps. This was the boy. Percy darted to his feet, hoping to show him who's boss.

Anna rushed to the door, and unlocked and opened it before Percy could get there. "LoveyouDadthanksbye." They were gone.

Percy kicked the couch in anger. Daisy looked up at him in surprise, startled by his anger. The old demigod sunk into the couch and tried to control his breathing. He was worrying too much. Anna would be fine. He tried listening to the horse races on the radio, before getting frustrated and shutting off the thing. He started pacing.

She had grown so much... too quickly for him. She was nearly as old as she was when Percy pulled her out of that tower.

_Bring us the Girl, and wipe away the debt._

The debt was to the Girl - Anna. Or Elizabeth, whichever. The Luteces had made this all possible, though they were the reason this mess was started in the first place. Percy owed them a debt as well. He took a deep breath, thinking about Anna again.

Everything he'd done for the past sixteen years had been to make her happy, and he hoped to god that he'd done it right this time. He felt tears well up in his eyes. He'd tried so goddamn hard to make her happy. He'd given her what the two of them had desired back in Columbia - _a family. _He'd given his daughter a proper childhood. A proper _father. _He knew he wasn't the best... but he tried so hard.

He sunk back onto the couch, tears liberally coming from his eyes. Every so often, these emotions came back out - when he realized what he'd done to Anna, both as Percy and as Comstock. Could he ever truly redeem what he'd done? Even now...

No. These were bad thoughts. He was past that now. Comstock was erased, and only infinite Percys remained, all of which would raise infinite Annas. That was what they had done, right?

These line of thinking was pointless. Right now, his baby girl was going on a _date _with some random boy a few years older than her. Was he putting his hands where he ought to not? His pacing intensified as Daisy matched his speed back and forth, keeping at his ankles.

If he didn't respect his daughter as much, he would've tailed the couple to make sure no funny business went down. However, just as he predicted, Riptide had never reappeared in his pocket. Somehow, he'd passed the sword onto her, if only for the night. He hoped it wasn't permanent - it'd be hard to explain to her why a pocket-watch kept magically appearing in her clothes.

He considered visiting Iona so that way they could worry together, before Percy's eyes began to droop shut. He readjusted himself on the couch into a more comfortable position and pointed at his beagle sternly. "You make sure she's home on time." He said to the dog.

Percy woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked. He glanced at the clock. _It was ten-thirty._ He made Anna vow to be home by nine.

He decided to pretend like he was sleeping, but his keep his eyes just slightly open. The boy didn't enter the apartment - _smart call, buddy _- and Anna turned to him with a smile. "Thanks for the night out, Delaney."

_Ha. He had a girl's name._

"It was my pleasure."

Anna leaned forward and kissed the boy on the cheek. The older boy managed a thank you, and Percy felt oddly sympathetic. His daughter was such a tease - just like her mother.

"Good night."

The door was shut, and Anna smiled to herself before panicking when she saw her father's supposedly sleeping body. She tiptoed past him, all the while Percy had to bite his tongue. Just as Anna was about to reach her door, Percy asked, "What hour do you call this, young lady?"

The girl froze mid-reach and turned to face her father, who was now sitting up and glaring at her. "Dad! I... uh..."

Percy shook his head in disappointment. "You told me you'd be home by nine. You know what time it is?"

Anna stammered. "It's ten-thirty."

"That's an hour and a half late."

She nodded slowly. "It is."

Percy stared at her incredulously. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm _sorry, _okay? I lost track of time, I-"

"YOU LOST TRACK OF TIME? IT'S TEN-THIRTY!"

Percy rose to his feet and tried to control his breathing. Anna merely watched on, eyes wide. The demigod eventually turned to her after he had calmed himself and put his hands on her shoulders. "Do me a favor here, okay? You know I worry."

She punched him in the ribs lightly. "You're too overprotective."

"What kind of father would I be if I didn't do a full background check on him?"

This time, Anna punched his ribs hard. "You did _what?"_

Wrong thing to say. "Just listen, kid, I-"

She locked eyes with him. "You're not jealous, are you?"

Oh, hell yes he was.

He dreaded to think of what would happen to him some day when Anna would inevitably leave him. As he'd said before, she was the only reason that he kept on living. It wasn't fair to her that he felt like that - she had a life to live, a family and children to love someday. A bit less like jealousy, and a bit more like a self sense of self-preservation.

Even though Percy probably should've been furious with his daughter, he wrapped her in a hug. She wriggled under his grip. "You're crushing me."

The father relented and let her go. She looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes again. "Even if I have a million boyfriends, you'll always be my hero, Dad."

Percy set his jaw and kept himself from crying. Anna looked up at him, unsure if she'd done anything wrong. Percy managed to turn his face to a grin. "I sure do hope you won't have a million boyfriends, sweetheart."

They both laughed, and Percy was happy.

* * *

"What's the issue, sir?"

Percy and Anna had been called into the principal's office at her school around halfway into Anna's last year of high school. The seventeen-year-old seemed nervous, which probably didn't bode well.

The principal handed Percy a file - Anna's file. "Your daughter wants to challenge the university exam." He said simply.

Percy shrugged. "Yeah. And?"

The old man's brow furrowed. "You desire your daughter to go to college?"

"I'm here, you know." Anna chipped in, peeved that the two men were talking about her as if she weren't sitting right there.

The demigod gave the principal a cold glare. "'Course I want her to go to college. She's brilliant. Been in gifted studies ever since she was eight."

"No universities will ever take her. It would take a near perfect score, and a tons of recommendations from her teachers."

"What makes you say that?"

"She's a woman."

The misogynistic parts of this time period was one of its most annoying aspects. Anna was absolutely brilliant, but her gender might keep her from university. It wasn't fair. Annabeth used to prattle on about feminism, but in 2013 it felt hollow. Now, in 1910, in made a lot more sense.

"If my scores are good enough, they'd have to let me in." Anna said, in a voice that sounded more like she was assuring herself. "Right?"

"I'm not sure, Miss Jackson. It may not be worth trying."

"The hell it isn't." Percy interrupted. "If my daughter thinks she can pass that exam, and if she wants to, she's going to take it."

Anna squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Dad."

The principal sighed. "Alright. The exam will not be cheap, Mr. Jackson."

"I can handle it."

"I'll take your word for it."

The father and daughter walked out of the school. Anna gave Percy a hug. "Love you."

He smiled and returned the hug. "I believe in you, kid."

* * *

Percy arrived at the university, unsure of what this meeting was about. He was used to being called in for Anna at school, but never at the college. Especially never in late July.

His daughter had just finished her first year of college, and she'd finished it well. She was coursing on physics - which made Percy uneasy, since it reminded him a bit too much of the Luteces and of Annabeth.

But now, he stood awkwardly in the waiting area, twiddling his thumbs. "Mr. Jackson?" The clerk finally asked.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Mr. Clements would like to see you. He's in the language department."

Percy nodded and began to walk in that direction. This Clements man was Anna's French professor. She was nearly fluent in the language, and had tried to get Percy to learn it as well. However, past _je m'appelle Percy Jackson_ and_ je parle un peu de français_ the language was a mystery to him._**  
**_

He eventually arrived at the front door, and knocked hesitantly. "Come on in, Mr. Jackson."

The professor's office was rather small. The man himself was a short, scrawny man in his fifties who seemed excited. They quickly shook hands. "It's good to meet you, sir. My daughter tells me you're quite the instructor."

"And she's quite the learner. My first female student, and she's at the top of my class..." He shook his head and chuckled.

Percy shrugged. "She's got the mind of her mother."

"Ah, don't sell yourself short, my good man." Well, this Clements man seemed kindly enough. "I have an exciting opportunity for Anna, if you'd be willing to hear me out."

The demigods sat up a bit straighter. "Alright. What's going on?"

Mr. Clements handed over a pamphlet, which Percy barely glanced at. "I have some connections to the Sorbonne from some mutual friends. They're accepting students in for abroad study."

"What's abroad study?" Percy asked dimly.

"When you spend a semester in an different country. And due to Anna's unique situation, I believe this would be excellent for her."

Percy's heart pounded. The Sorbonne was in Paris - another fact from his daughter. This was her chance... "Anything for my girl, professor."

Mr. Clements nodded cautiously. "The cost will be steep."

"Just how steep?"

* * *

It was pretty steep.

Percy rushed home to check the Paris fund - the little amount of money he'd set aside each month since he'd reclaimed Anna. He quickly pushed his door open, to see that Iona was reading on the coach. "What was the meeting all about, Percy?" She asked, rising to her feet to give Percy a kiss on the cheek.

The woman had moved in with Percy and Anna, in an attempt to help pay off the latter's stiff college tuition. In regards to the relationship between the two, they'd been sort-of-dating off and on for... like, ten years now. But Percy wasn't able to commit to anything past a casual relationship - Annabeth's death still stung.

Anna was working as a waitress at a nearby restaurant to help contribute as well; she'd also started to make money from her various scientific findings at college. She'd make a lot more than her father someday.

"Something for Anna," was all Percy said, as he rushed into his desk and pulled out a small envelope. Inside of it was $352. He hugged it close to his chest. He was going to keep his promise... his daughter was going to Paris. They could feasibly afford it.

And then the truth dawned on Percy... Anna would be gone until Christmas. That was _five months _of not seeing her... but it was to make her happy.

"Anna's going to study abroad at the Sorbonne is Paris." Percy said happily to Iona. "This is what she's always wanted..."

Just then, Anna strode in from a walk. "Dad?... Is something going on?"

"You bet, kid."

As Percy explained to her about the prospect of studying at the Sorbonne, Anna's eyes got brighter and brighter. By the end, she wrapped Percy in a hug. "Oh my god... Dad, this must be so expensive! How can we-"

"Don't worry about it. It's on me. ON ONE CONDITION."

Anna looked up at him, surprised. "What's that?"

"You won't run off with a studly Parisian boy and ditch us."

"Of course!" She broke the hug, suddenly looking crestfallen. "I... I couldn't go to Paris without you or Iona! It wouldn't be fair."

Percy looked down at the money in his hand. Maybe... just maybe... "I think we have enough left over to book a hotel for the three of us for a few days. You know, before the semester begins."

Iona looked a bit sad. "I'd love to go, but I don't have any time off of work for awhile."

Anna moved to her and gave her a quick hug of sympathy. Percy cleared his throat. "It won't be the same thing without you."

She gave a wry smile. "Enjoy the time with your daughter, old friend. I'll be fine."

Anna turned back to Percy with a big smile on her face. "So when do we leave?"

* * *

Two weeks later, their ship finally neared Paris. The thirty-eight year-old was sleeping peacefully in his bunk when he was woken up. "Dad, we're almost there! Can we go out onto the deck?"

"O' course, sweetheart."

Anna grabbed Percy's hand and hauled him out of bed. She opened the door out onto the deck.

It was a beautiful mid-summer day - the sun was out, washing the beautiful city in yellow and orange. The Eiffel Tower - constructed in 1889, according to Anna - sat in the distance.

Speaking of Anna, she was pressed up against the rail, with tears in her eyes. "It's... beautiful..." She managed to say.

"It sure is, kid."

She turned to him. "I can't thank you enough... I can't imagine being here without you."

Percy felt a bit choked up, but he kept his composure. "No problem."

As the boat docked, Anna grabbed Percy's hand and they dashed through the shipyard and into a sun-drenched Parisian square. Cafes around them sold croissants and tea and coffee. Children were laughing and playing in the streets. Lovers around the place were on dates. This place was pretty damn nice. Anna sure knew how to pick a destination.

The father and daughter faced each other. "What do we do now?" She asked.

Suddenly, a PA system rippled to life. The speaker said his lines once in French, and then started in English. "We have special guests! Musicians from America, the Bee Sharps! Here with their special, God Only Knows!"

Percy's heart melted.

The quartet stepped out over on a balcony to Percy's right - they looked exactly like they had in Columbia - minus the airship. As Percy stared at them with jaw dropped, Anna looked equally in awe.

Wait... did she?...

The two slowly looked at each other, each in total surprise and unsure of what to say to the other. Finally Percy asked, "Elizabeth?"

"Percy... you remembered Columbia this WHOLE TIME, and you never said anything?"

"YOU remembered this whole time, and never said anything?"

Elizabeth... no, _Anna,_ had known about Columbia. She remembered, just like Percy. Why hadn't he ever thought that was possible?!

She remembered that Percy had originally sold her. She remembered that Percy had killed a thousand or so people to get her back. She knew that Percy was Comstock.

The two stood a few feet apart from each other, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Percy croaked, "Did I do okay, kid?"

His daughter embraced him, eyes full of tears. Percy didn't care that there were people all around him - he cried liberally too, as they held each other. "I love you, Dad..." She managed.

Percy nearly fell over. Hearing that right then made him feel like a million drachmas.

"I try, sweetheart."

Just then, the quartet began to sing.

_"I may not always love you..."_

"You still owe me that slow dance, Percy." Anna said expectantly. "Remember?"

Percy chuckled, and the two started to dance. The song wasn't perfect, and the demigod could hardly dance, but Anna looked happier than he'd ever seen her.

_"But long as there are stars above you_  
_You never need to doubt it_  
_I'll make you so sure about it..."_

The father smiled and attempted to sing the last line. "God only knows what I'd be without you..."

Anna laughed, and they broke the traditional dance. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he could feel the tears through the fabric. They continued to move in circles, somewhat to the tune.

_"If you should ever leave me_  
_Though life would still go on, believe me_  
_The world could show nothing to me_  
_So what good would living do me_  
_God only knows what I'd be without you."_

Anna cried into Percy's shirt, "Thank you... thank you so much..."

"It was nothing. I should be thanking you. I _wish _God only knew what I'd be without you."

And in the City of Love, Percy and Anna Jackson danced.

* * *

Two people stepped through a Tear on a nearby rooftop - a girl with a white corset, chin-length black hair, and a blue skirt. Next to her was a messy old man, wearing a green vest covered in rips and tears. On his right hand was a bandage, and he was missing two fingers.

"Why're we here again, Anna?" The man asked.

The young woman rolled her eyes. "I told you, Percy. This isn't just any world. This is the world where we remember."

"Oh."

They traveled to the edge of the roof. Below, a father and daughter danced to a quartet from Columbia. "That's us." Percy said.

Anna nodded and sighed, looking at the two dancing below. "I wonder what it's like, to live normal lives."

Percy shrugged, and patted his daughter on the shoulder. "I don't know. But I'm happy for them."

These two were the actual versions of Percy and his daughter who performed the drowning that had ended Comstock. Due to some glitch in the multiverse, they both now operated from a quantum superposition - they were Infinite, as Robert and Rosalind called it. They were like the Lutece twins - scattered. Everywhere and nowhere. The two weren't obligated to be together... but they were practically inseparable. They were family, after all.

Just like the Luteces, they weren't limited by time. They could alter their age and appearance at will, but they usually stayed like this. It was nostalgic, in a way.

When Anna (though back then, she still called herself Elizabeth) had first found that Percy was Infinite, just like her... that was back when she still hated him after the Comstock reveal. She _loathed _that her father held that power as well - at first, anyway.

But that was a story for another day.

Percy and Anna shared a look. This wasn't the first time that they'd visited Paris, but it was special on every occasion. She smiled and pointed down at their mortal counterparts. "It seems like you did well here."

Percy shrugged. "I guess so."

He used to think that the gods were jerks for thinking that mortal lives meant so little, but now that he was Infinite - essentially immortal - he could see how melancholy would be an easy trap for a god to fall into. Especially when there were a million million Percys and a million million Annas, and you realized just how insignificant each one of them was in the grand scheme of things.

He could see all the doors, and what was behind all the doors. And behind all of them, he was happy.

Behind all of them, Anna thought her father was the best one of all.

"Can we dance, Percy?" Anna asked.

"Of course, kid."

They formed up, and slowly shuffled back and forth to the beautiful tune.

_"If you should ever leave me_  
_Though life would still go on, believe me_  
_The world could show nothing to me_  
_So what good would livin' do me_  
_God only knows what I'd be without you."_

* * *

"Are you crying, Rosalind?"

And on a different rooftop, away from the prying eyes of both the Infinite and mortal versions of their former test subjects, the Luteces watched everything unfold.

Robert stood just behind his female counterpart, who seemed to be weeping. Astounding. "I am most certainly not." Rosalind insisted.

"Yes you are."

"No I am not."

"Are."

"Am not."

"Are."

"_Am not."_

Robert shook his head, used to Rosalind's stubbornness. He stood next to her and grasped her hand. "Not that I'm saying you shouldn't be."

"What do you mean?"

"We've finally broken the circle that we set into motion."

Rosalind shook her head. "Annabeth Chase technically set the circle in motion."

"She merely created the circle. We extended it."

"True."

They hadn't managed to destroy the entire circle, but they'd dented it. Given every single instance of Percy Jackson and his daughter peace.

"I'm quite happy with how the experiment turned out." Robert finally said.

"You're just a sucker for a happy ending."

"Is there ever truly an 'ending'?"

"I suppose not."

The two met eyes. "Shall we dance, then?"

"I suppose we shall."

* * *

Anna continued to cry as the two danced in the street. Some of the people around them had taken note and were watching the adorable scene. Percy spun her in a circle, and wanted this moment to never end.

They hugged tightly again. "I'm so sorry for everything, Anna." Percy muttered, kissing her forehead.

"You've more than repaid the debt in full." The Girl said happily, snuggling closer into Percy's chest. "I'm sure Mom is proud of you."

And somewhere, Annabeth Chase smiled.

* * *

**Holy crap.**

**This is the first fanfiction that I've ever finished, and it feels great. I'm psyched about this. I'm actually happy with something that I've written for once.**

**Those of you who have left kind words receive my eternal gratitude and thanks. You guys are _beyond_ awesome. I really wanted to do this story after beating the beautiful work of art that is BioShock Infinite, and the support kept me going.**

**And since you guys are badass, I'm not done yet.**

**I immediately will begin work on Vigorous Restitution: Burial At Sea. It's going to be placed chronologically BEFORE (not in years, but in terms of events) the Paris scene, and it's going to deal with the versions of Percy and Elizabeth that are Infinite. I didn't just throw them in there for the hell of it.**

**if you haven't played Burial At Sea, don't worry about it. It's vaguely following the actual DLC's plotline. It will make necessary references to BioShock 1 and 2, but you can still enjoy it if you haven't played those as well.**

**And once I'm finished with that... who knows?**

**Face Hugz,**

**-Professor Marmalade, AKA the Daedric Prince of Crossovers**


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